


Then Shall He Reward Everyone According to His Works (Matthew 16:27)

by Orithain, Rina9294



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 14:11:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5500202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orithain/pseuds/Orithain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rina9294/pseuds/Rina9294
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel grow closer while Dean and Sam try to deal with the taint of the demon blood in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Then Shall He Reward Everyone According to His Works (Matthew 16:27)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in Ashton Press’ zine _Fallen 2_ , May 2011.  
> Note: We started writing this very soon after Castiel’s first appearance, and while we tried to work as much later canon in as possible, much of what we wrote contradicts developments in later eps.

A noise woke Dean, and he got to his feet, moving past Sam to the window next to the motel room door so he could peer outside. Once he did, his expression tightened, and he hesitated for a moment before opening the door and slipping outside, making the sure the door shut and latched behind him.

The moonlight silvered Dean’s bare chest over the zipped but unbuttoned jeans he’d pulled on before going to the window.

“So am I really awake this time?” he asked irritably. “Or is this another freaking dream? I better not end up pregnant!”

The trench-coated figure stepped out of the shadows and into the pool of light shed by the small bulb over the door to the room Dean and Sam shared. His head was cocked slightly to the side, and he frowned as if confused by Dean’s statement. “Does it matter?”

“If I’m pregnant?!? Dude, my name isn’t Mary!”

“You’re hardly virginal.”

“Thank God!” Dean exclaimed, then grinned when he remembered who he was talking to. “That part of being an angel’s really gotta suck, huh?”

Castiel stared at him, his expression impassive. “Your urges aren’t my concern.”

“You guys really got a bum rap.” Dean shook his head. “No wonder you’re so bitchy.”

Castiel watched him impassively, ignoring Dean’s comment and attitude.

“Yeah, okay. So you’re here why?”

“Look around.” In the blink of an eye they were transported to an abandoned warehouse somewhere it was day outside.

“What the _hell_?!” Dean exclaimed, suddenly finding himself in a charnel pit, almost standing on the out flung hand of the nearest body. It seemed like a sea of corpses at first, but there were probably only a few dozen... _only_!

“You still doubt that we are doing anything in this battle. Belief is paramount, but time is short.” Castiel’s gaze shifted to the body Dean stood by, a dark-haired woman who looked as if she had been gutted. “That was Nahuriel.”

The green eyes widened before returning to the woman at his feet, absently noting that she had been beautiful. Curious, he looked back at Castiel. “You guys possess humans too or do you just create bodies somehow?”

“We do not possess.” The angel’s tone was flat as he surveyed the carnage around them. “We are invited by the devout. They share their bodies with us until our mission is complete.”

“Oh right, you said that the first time I had the _pleasure_ of your company,” Dean remembered. “Whatever.” He shrugged. He looked around, taking in the carnage. “One angel fought and killed all of these demons? Or at least killed their hosts,” he amended.

“Both. And was killed as she fulfilled her duty.”

Dean turned to look at him. “If you’re waiting for me to fall to my knees in gratitude, I gotta tell ya, it ain’t gonna happen. That’s kind of in your job description, Cassy, and guess what, it’s how most hunters go too.”

The angel crouched down and closed the woman’s eyes, and when he stood, they were back in the parking lot outside the motel. “I didn’t ask for your gratitude, and I won’t.”

“So what was the point of that? You said six of your ‘brothers’ died this week; you thought I needed physical evidence?”

A shadow crossed Castiel’s eyes before his expression firmed again. “You do not believe. Even now, after what you have been shown, you do not believe.”

“In God? Sorry, no. Look around, pal. This world is totally fucked up. If I believed in an omnipotent, omniscient God who still let this happen, I’d have to hate the bastard.”

“Free will,” Castiel murmured, looking out over the mostly empty parking lot.

“Spare the rod, spoil the child,” Dean retorted. “There’s free will, and then there’s indifference.”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed before he shook his head. “Not that, never that.”

Dean shrugged. “Can’t prove it by the headlines.”

“Perhaps you should read deeper.”

Dean’s lips twisted in an ironic smile. “For what? Wars, murders, rapes, terrorism, biological weapons, economic crises... and let’s not forget the stuff that doesn’t get reported, like demons, ghosts, vampires, and various and sundry ghouls. Yeah, it’s a great world, gives me the real warm ‘n fuzzies.”

“Read deeper,” Castiel repeated, then he was gone, and Dean was waking up in the bed in his hotel room, a newspaper on the pillow next to his head.

“Thanks for nothing!” Dean snarled, careful not to wake Sam. He grabbed the paper and slapped it onto the nightstand, stubbornly closing his eyes again. “Waking up every time I see you is not convincing me you’re real,” he grumbled into his pillow.

“Wha?” Sam asked, rolling to his side and blinking sleepily at Dean.

“Go back to sleep. I am.” Dean punched his pillow irritably.

“Stop talking so I can!”

If angels could read humans’ minds, Dean was going straight back to Hell.

~*~

Over breakfast the next morning, Dean announced, “So, I had another visit from my new friend last night.”

Sam paused, his coffee cup half-way to his mouth. “And?”

“He showed me a bunch of dead ex-demons and one dead angel.” Dean took another bite of his pancakes.

Sam swallowed some of his coffee down, his brows drawing together as he frowned. “Any explanations this time?”

Dean snorted. “I think he’s allergic to them.”

“Sounds like it. So, still no idea why... you know.” Sam gestured in Dean’s general direction as he spoke, almost slopping coffee into his food.

“Nope, he never mentioned it.” Dean frowned into his coffee. “It doesn’t make any sense, Sammy. Why me and not, I dunno, Dad?”

“To be saved?” Sam frowned as he asked the question. “Why not you, Dean?”

Dean cast a wry glance at his brother. “I’m hardly a candidate for sainthood, Sam.”

“And Dad was?”

“Good point,” Dean laughed. “I don’t think we know anyone who’d qualify.”

“Exactly, now if he’d just give you more than one word answers...”

“I think I might pass out if that happened,” Dean snorted, making Sam chuckle.

“Then you still wouldn’t get your answer.”

“I don’t think I ever will anyways,” Dean replied before digging into his breakfast again.

“He’s gonna have to tell you something eventually; otherwise, what’s the point?”

Dean regarded his brother wryly. “You mean you really think he has one? I’m starting to think that he just gets off on bugging me... except that apparently, he doesn’t get off.”

“Dude, that is so much more than I needed to know,” Sam commented before taking a bite of his pancakes.

“Gotta feel sorry for the guy, though,” Dean pointed out. “Imagine living forever and never getting any!”

“I somehow don’t think angels care about that sort of thing.”

“You sound like him.”

“Like your angel? Thanks—I think...”

“It wasn’t a compliment!”

Sam snickered at Dean’s glowering expression.

“It’s unnatural!”

“Some people do survive without getting laid every few days.”

“Why bother?”

Sam shook his head and went back to his food.

After a few minutes of uninterrupted eating Dean spoke again. “So what are we going to do against demons who can kill an angel?”

“We have the Colt and the knife, so we do what we’ve been doing; kill them.”

“I guess that’s all we can do,” Dean said slowly, watching Sam over the table.

“I’d say that was a hell of a lot.”

“But is it enough?” Dean murmured, so softly that it was clearly meant for himself.

Sam looked up at him at that, his brow furrowed. “Huh?”

Dean shrugged slightly. “This one’s big, Sam; we might not be able to beat ‘em this time.”

“I thought I was the pessimist here,” Sam said jokingly. “It’s demons, Dean. We’ve beaten them before; we’ll do it again.”

“Hopefully without either of us dying this time.”

“Since we’ve both been there, done that, it’s old news, right?” Sam quirked a small grin at that.

Dean looked at him. “Not news I want to repeat.”

Immediately Sam looked contrite, sympathy welling in his eyes. “Dean...”

“Don’t.” Dean looked back down at his plate, and Sam sighed.

“Right, not going there.”

~*~

Still reeling from his excursion to the past and meeting with his parents and grandparents, Dean sat on the motel room bed after Castiel vanished yet again, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of angels thinking of Sam as an enemy.

“Sam is one of the good guys!” he suddenly yelled, glaring up at the ceiling.

“Do you really know your brother, Dean?” the voice came from behind him, making him half turn and look over his shoulder.

“Gee, you’re back again. What’s your quota this time, _six_ words?”

“I cannot force your belief; what more should I say?”

“That you’ll keep your blistery hands off my brother.”

“Have I touched him? You should be grateful that you have been given the chance to save him.”

Dean turned fully to glare at the angel. “He has saved a lot more people in the last four years than you and your _brethren_ ,” he snapped. “So tell me, who’s the good guy here?”

“Why do you think you have been given the chance to save him?” Castiel asked mildly.

“You’re the one who seems to think he needs saving,” Dean retorted, glaring. “We were... Sam was doing just fine without you.”

“If you believe so, why are you reluctant to go to the address I gave you?”

“Dude, it’s the middle of the freaking night. Humans need to sleep sometimes.”

“He is not asleep; if he was, he would be in this room.”

“ _I_ was!”

“And now you are awake.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, Mr. Obvious, let me make this simple for you. I’m human. I need sleep. You keep waking me up.”

“Are you sure that you’re awake?”

This time Dean growled. “What the fuck is up with you and me being asleep? Enough already!”

Heat flared in the angel’s eyes, and he leaned inward, invading Dean’s personal space. “You have a mission, Dean Winchester. Denying it will not absolve you of it.”

Dean refused to move back, although his body stiffened. “I still don’t believe in any of this.”

“And yet you still wonder where your brother is.”

“I’m sure he’s following a lead.”

“Are you?”

“Yes!” Dean snapped, crossing his arms and glaring.

“Then why did he not tell you or leave you notice?”

“Because I was _asleep_!”

“That would have stopped him from leaving you a message?”

“I’m his brother, not his keeper. He can call me if he needs me.”

“Would you have left a message for him?”

Dean shrugged. “Not necessarily if I expected to be back before morning.”

Castiel leveled a gaze at him that seemed to stare into his very soul and reveal the fact the Dean was lying, but Dean just stared back stubbornly, a mulish expression on his face. The angel’s features tightened, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Saying something does not make it so.”

“Exactly,” Dean replied triumphantly. “Saying Sam’s going bad doesn’t make it so.”

“If that is the case, why do you refuse to investigate? Prove me wrong, Dean. Prove God wrong.”

“Because I believe in my brother and don’t need to!”

A growl escaped Castiel’s lips, and his hand flashed out, grasping Dean’s arm, wrenching them both through reality to land outside an abandoned warehouse. “Don’t you?”

About to snap back a reply, Dean was stopped by what he saw through the window in front of him. Accompanied by the girl who’d been in the hotel room when Dean tracked his brother down, Sam was exorcising a demon from a human host... using the power he told Dean he hadn’t used since before Dean went to Hell.

“Sammy.” Dean’s lips shaped the name, but not a breath of sound escaped him.

Castiel’s gaze turned sympathetic for a fleeting moment. “This is why God needs you. Why I was sent for you.”

“I can’t lose him too.”

“You can stop him. You must stop him.”

Dean turned to face the angel. “Well, I’m sure as hell not going to let you do it.”

“We have faith in you, Dean, even if you do not have any in yourself.”

“I have plenty of faith in myself!”

“But nothing else.”

“That’s all I need. And I know I can count on myself.”

“That is a lonely existence.”

Dean shrugged. “Better than the alternative. And as you know, I know.”

“You are not alone, Dean; no matter what you believe, you are not alone.”

“Yeah, right, I’ve seen a lot of evidence of that.”

“You are here, are you not?”

Dean had no answer for that, so he turned back to the window, watching Sam.

“You can stop this. You can save him. We have faith in you; I have faith in you. I have seen the man you are. You were laid bare to me when I returned you to life, and I know the truth behind your words.” Castiel’s voice broke the silence around them though he remained in the shadows.

Dean’s posture stiffened, and he remained facing the window. “Then you really shouldn’t be betting on me.”

“You cannot lie to me though you lie to yourself.”

“You really suck, you know that, right?”

“You wanted answers and yet you condemn me for giving you them. I have already told you more than I should have.” Castiel stopped speaking, and his body hunched over.

At that, Dean finally turned and faced him. “If that’s more than you should have, you must be under orders to take knowledge away.”

“Free will, Dean,” Castiel hissed. “You must make the choice of your own will, not from what the knowledge I provide you forces you to do.”

“Dude. No one forces me to do anything.”

“So I’ve seen.” The sound Castiel made could have been a pained laugh, and despite everything, Dean had to grin.

“Next time you’re in heaven, you can commiserate with my dad.”

“Perhaps I have.”

“Oh great.”

“How fitting that this is the one thing you believe.”

Dean eyed him. “You saying you were lying?”

“I do not lie,” Castiel grated from between clenched teeth.

“Then you’re unique in the universe.”

“I am an angel of the Lord; we do not lie.”

“Still having issues with that Lord thing.”

Castiel slowly straightened, his breathing returning to normal. “I will rejoice in the day you tell me differently.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“That would damage this vessel.”

Dean snorted out a laugh. “You are so freakin’ weird.”

“Because I do not wish to damage the body I inhabit beyond my ability to repair it?”

“You really need to catch up to the times. It’s an expression.”

“Ahh.” Castiel nodded slowly.

“We’ll have language lessons tomorrow,” Dean told him before squaring his shoulders and walking through the doorway to confront his brother.

~*~

“I’m going to go get something to eat, want anything?” Sam asked as he shrugged on his jacket and picked up the Impala’s keys from the battered dresser.

Dean just looked at him for a long moment, his eyes searching Sam’s. “No,” he said finally. “I’m good.”

“Call me if you change your mind.”

Dean nodded. “Will do. I’ll probably just try to get some sleep since I keep getting interrupted.”

Sam nodded as he opened the door. “Okay, I shouldn’t be long.”

Dean slumped against the pillows after the door shut. “But what are you going to be doing, Sammy?”

“I thought you trusted your brother.”

His eyes closing, Dean sighed. “I do. But I’m not so sure about the demon blood that’s inside him.”

“It is part of him; he must learn to control it, or it will control him.”

“He won’t let that happen.” Even Dean wasn’t sure which of them he was trying to convince.

“ _You_ won’t let that happen.”

“What happened to ‘I’m not my brother’s keeper’?”

“You deny something you have lived your whole life?”

Dean had to smile wryly, unable to deny it. “Do you know any more about what ol’ yellow eyes’ plan is?”

Castiel shook his head. “Only that more Seals are attacked with each day.”

“Great, just what we need.  Shouldn’t your boss be getting involved in this?”

“He has sent the Host; He is involved.”

“We’re talking about freaking Lucifer here! When the top guy for the other side gets personally involved, maybe the top guy on our side should too!”

“Lucifer is not part of the conflict at this time, so the Lord cannot be either! He has sent us to battle the demons in His name; why cannot you understand this?”

“Because people are dying!”

“And more will die if we do not stop this!”

Dean gave him a cooked grin. “You’re getting less calm there, Cas.”

“Because you do not seem to be taking this seriously!”

Dean shrugged. “This isn’t much different from my everyday life, so what do you expect?”

“You would rather Lucifer walked free on the Earth?”

“Do I _look_ like I want to worship the freaking Anti-Christ?!?”

“You don’t worship anything.”

“So give me a reason to.”

“The whole point is not to force you into belief,” Castiel sighed, looking as if he wanted to pull at his hair.

“Call me Doubting Thomas,” Dean replied. “I need proof too.”

Castiel’s eyes widened at that. “You wish me to bring our Lord’s Son back to Earth for you to touch His wounds?”

Dean gawked at him. “You _really_ have to get over being so literal. I’m having enough trouble with God without adding a resurrected son into the mix. Proof of God would do fine.”

“You are here; what more proof do you need?”

“I already believe in me.”

“Are you saying you raised yourself from Hell?”

“No, _you_ did. I never said I didn’t believe in you. Recently.”

“And why am I here if not for Him?”

Dean shrugged. “Demons seem to do pretty well without direction from a higher power.”

“They have direction; they simply do not know it.”

“Why don’t you tell them that? I could sell tickets.”

Castiel growled and turned, stalking around the small motel room. “The Lord has set me with tasks before but none as difficult as this.”

Dean stared at him for a moment before smirking. “That’s me, the best at everything I do.”

“This _amuses_ you?”

“Life sucks, Cas. Ya haveta laugh at it, or it’ll bury you.”

“And who taught you that?” Castiel asked, turning to stare at him.

“Life.”

“God wants you to save your brother; why is that not enough for you?”

“Because I don’t believe in God!”

Castiel sighed at that. “I am sorry for that fact.”

Dean shrugged. “It works for me.”

“I am sorry for that also.”

“I need some aspirin.”

“Are you saying that _you_ have a headache?” Castiel asked, sounding amazed.

“Yup. Dealing with you... well, you’re not exactly Joe Normal.”

“Your Joe Normal would be of no help to you.”

Dean stared at him. “Tequila. Tequila would be good.”

Castiel sighed at that before looking up sharply, his eyes focused in the distance.

“What?” Dean’s hand fell to the gun in his pocket as he followed the angel’s gaze.

“You wish to see the Lord’s will at work?”

“As long as I’m not turned into a pillar of salt or killed or anything.”

“Sodom and Gomorrah is a myth perpetuated by those who wrote down the words attributed to God,” Castiel said tightly as he strode toward Dean, a hand outstretched. “Stay close; you will not be harmed.”

“I figured. It would be kind of stupid to pull me out of Hell and then kill me.”

“It is not me you should be worried about.” Castiel’s hand closed around Dean’s arm at that, and they both vanished, reappearing in a darkened field half a world away. Dean looked around warily, moving slightly closer to the angel.

“So where are we? Are you going to show me more dead angels and demons?”

“Hopefully only the latter.” Several shadowed forms moved toward them, and Castiel nodded in their directions. “Jehoel and Shemael,” he murmured as two approached, revealing themselves to be a dark-haired, short woman and a tall, blond man.

“The Seal is unbreached,” the woman said before turning her dark gaze on Dean.

Dean swallowed hard. “More angels?” he asked almost faintly.

“Would you prefer demons?” the male angel asked sarcastically, and Dean’s eyebrows rose as he glanced at Castiel.

“Angels can have attitude?”

“Shemael is young; he will learn.”

“He probably handles dealing with humans better than the rest of you.”

“You’re in good hands with Castiel,” Shemael responded with a cocky grin. “Our Lord picked him to raise you to life.”

“This isn’t protecting the Seal,” Jehoel cut in.

“Is anyone actually attacking it at the moment?” Dean wanted to know.

“Oh look, three goodie-goodies and their pet ape,” a low voice rasped from the darkness. “This should be enjoyable.

Dean turned, the almost forgotten gun in his pocket rising and a round hitting the demon before he completed the turn. “You guys need an exterminator.”

Echoing laughter filled the night air around them, and Castiel drew Dean back into the area between the three angels. “We are enough,” he said firmly as all three angels drew swords of brilliant white light and braced themselves.

“Oh shit,” Dean muttered. Being a witness to an angelic battle had never been one of his ambitions.

“You might want to stay back,” Shemael informed him, most of his attention remaining on the demon and the others that coalesced out of the darkness around them.

“Twenty,” Jehoel commented, her voice full of disdain. “Why did you feel the need to join us, Castiel?”

“Proof.”

“Still angels, not God,” Dean muttered, gaining a disbelieving look from Jehoel.

“He does not believe?” she hissed, looking over her shoulder at Castiel, who continued to watch the approaching mob.

“The most devout begin their lives that way.”

Dean just snorted. “Ain’t happening. So, you guys wanna tell me what we’re guarding here?”

“The Garden of Eden,” Shemael replied, making Dean’s eyes widen.

“That’s real?”

“The story has been passed down relatively intact,” Jehoel admitted as she shifted her stance in preparation for the attack.

Castiel nodded sharply at that. “We must keep the Garden sealed.”

“Sealed?” Dean asked sharply.

“The Garden is a Seal,” Shemael retorted, his tone indicating that he thought Dean was an idiot for not knowing that.

“And it will be ours now as it should have been once,” the initial demon laughed.

“Great, another Seal,” Dean muttered. He really wished he had the Colt; as it was, he was pretty much limited to using harsh language on the demons.

“You will not have the Garden,” Jehoel stated to the demon, causing the infernal host to howl with laughter as they ringed in tighter, smoky weapons appearing in their hands.

Jehoel shouted something in a language Dean didn’t understand and attacked, her sword flashing in the darkness, cleaving the flesh of the large male body that held a demon, causing it to burst into flame.

Dean’s eyes widened, and his hands clenched on the useless gun he held. “Okay, yeah, smiting. Thanks for the visual to go with the Old Testament.”

None of the angels answered as they were busy fending off the demons’ attack, swords flashing white against the darkness, cleaving flesh and smoke, leaving piles of ash on the sand surrounding them.

Dean raised a hand to shield his eyes against the blazing light of the angels’ swords, even brighter in contrast to the unbroken darkness of the desert night.  He flinched back from the ferocity of the battle, absently noting that even now there was always at least one angel between him and the demons.

Shemael was locked in battle with a tall, muscular woman, both of them wearing determined expressions as the demon fought to gain access to the Garden and break another of the Seals restraining Lucifer and the angel equally intent upon preventing that.

Noting the angels’ side-goal of protecting the human, the demons divided their attacks, striving to reach their goals, seeking to divide the angels’ attention and therefore defeat them. Castiel whirled, swinging his sword downward, cleaving through a black smoke whip that had been snapped in Dean’s direction.

Dean stared down at the dissipating shadow on the sand and swallowed hard. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t have liked the results if that had touched him. “Next time you’re going to take me to a battle between the forces of ultimate good and evil, let me grab some weapons first,” he muttered.

“You keep demanding proof,” Castiel answered as he spun, cutting through another strike aimed at Dean and taking the demon’s arm with it, causing the arm, and the body it had been connected to, to incinerate.

“He demands proof?” Jehoel asked, stunned surprise coloring her tone, the last word fading away into shock as a blackened blade drove through her sternum.

Dean half stepped forward, but Jehoel had already crumpled to the ground, blood seeping out to stain the pale sand, her eyes empty and lifeless. “Christ,” he whispered.

Shemael’s sword flashed through the air in front of him, destroying the demon that had killed Jehoel, and his anguished cry echoed through the night air, cutting through the screams of the demons as their numbers were diminished until finally all that remained was the two angels and the human.

“We must lock the Seal,” Castiel said, resting a hand on Shemael’s shoulder.

The younger angel looked at the elder with bruised eyes. “I cannot believe she is gone,” he said painfully. “Jehoel was a warrior.” His eyes went to Dean, who returned the gaze steadily. “Bringing a human here was perhaps not wise.”

“He desires proof; we need him to believe, or all will be lost,” Castiel said gently, his fingers tightening on Shemael’s shoulder. “We must complete our task, lock the Seal.” A pure crystal knife appeared in Castiel’s right hand, and he let go of Shemael’s shoulder to hold the left out over the sand.

Dean watched silently, taking it all in. His eyes moved over the surrounding landscape, more than a dozen piles of dark ash dotting the sand, still vaguely recognizable as human shapes though the desert wind was already beginning to dissipate them. His gaze returned to the angels in time to see Castiel slice his palm and hand the knife to Shemael before clenching his fist and watching his blood fall to the ground, where it instantly vanished.

“It is done; the Garden has been locked,” Castiel said quietly. “We mourn our sister’s loss but know that in was in defense of all that He has created.”

Dean remained silent, not wishing to intrude on the moment, and Shemael’s eyes went to him.

“Do you believe now?” he asked almost bitterly, knowing that Jehoel’s surprise at the human’s disbelief had distracted her at the wrong moment, contributing to her death. If not for that, perhaps she might have survived, though he remained unwavering in his faith that all was in accordance with His plan.

“I... am willing to admit the possibility,” Dean replied carefully, still unsure, but if he had to admit to angels, which he did, God probably had to follow.

“Each loss has a purpose,” Castiel said quietly, causing Shemael to turn in his direction.

“It is as He wills, but do not bring your charge into my presence again, Castiel; I cannot say how it will go for him if I see him again.”

The blond angel vanished at that, and Castiel walked toward Dean, stopping at his side. “Do not judge my brother too harshly; death has not come to our kind since the first battle with the Fallen.”

Dean shrugged slightly. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about. I wouldn’t be happy about it either.”

“You will see those you have loved and lost when the Lord calls you to your final rest.” The angel’s voice was calm and full of conviction though his eyes welled with sympathy for Dean’s situation. “Do not fear in that regard.”

Dean stared at him. “Yeah, okay. Can we go back now?”

Castiel nodded and reached for Dean, the motel reappearing the moment his hand gripped Dean’s arm.

Dean immediately sat down on the side of the bed, staring up at Castiel. “Okay, that was... Angels are _dying_.”

“As I told you.”

“Dude, get over it. Most people don’t take everything on faith nowadays.”

“You were _shown_ the aftermath of a battle, and still you did not believe! I am surprised that you did not want to touch the wound that laid Jehoel low!” Castiel moved closer, an edge of menace cloaking his tone.

“And I believed you about that!” Dean snapped, refusing to back down. “But just because _you_ believe in something doesn’t make it so!”

“And if I tell you that I believe that you are a good man?” the angel taunted.

“I’d say you probably don’t know me very well,” Dean replied evenly.

“So you are selective in what you choose to believe.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I just finished saying that just because you believe something doesn’t mean I do. I see an angel in front of me, and you’ve demonstrated some fairly substantial powers, so yeah, angels exist. And angels are dying. The jury’s still out on the rest of it.”

Castiel turned to stare at the wall, tension evident in his shoulders. “You have witnessed battles that would caused multitudes to fall to their knees, quaking in fear; you have seen the depths of Hell and the light of Heaven; there is nothing more to do to bring you proof. I have failed in my mission, may God have mercy on me.”

Dean sighed. “Look, I’ve been hunting demons and other things that go bump in the night nearly my whole life, and not believing in your god has never stopped me.”

“You may not have believed in God, but He has always believed in you.”

Dean made gagging noises. “Can we stop talking about this? You’re starting to sound like a fortune cookie.”

“And what is it you would prefer to discuss?” Castiel asked tightly.

“How we can stop these sonsofbitches.”

“Save your brother.”

“Like I wasn’t already trying to do that!”

Keys rattled in the door, and Sam pushed it open to see Dean sitting on the bed, looking frustrated. “Hey, thought you were going to sleep.”

Dean glared at the vacant air in front of him. “That _was_ the plan.”

“What happened?” Sam paused and blinked. “Oh, you had a visit from your angelic friend?”

“You could say that. We visited the site of the Garden of Eden, and there was a battle between angels and demons, and an angel died, and another angel hates me. How was your dinner?”

Sam stared at him blankly for a moment, his eyes wide. “I brought you some pie,” he offered, holding out a plastic bag. “You went to the site of the Garden of Eden?”

“Yeah, apparently it’s another of the Seals. But the angels won that one. They bled on it to keep it sealed; I guess somehow that prevents the demons from trying again.” Dean reached for the bag of pie.

“So if the angels won this battle, it means that Lucifer can’t be released, right? The whole thing is a done deal.”

Dean stared, then blinked. “Huh. Good question. But Castiel didn’t act like it was over, so I guess that there’s still some way for the demons to go back eventually if they aren’t defeated entirely. I’ll ask him next time he shows up.”

“Yeah, you do that,” Sam nodded, dropping to the other bed and pulling his work boots off though after a moment, he looked at Dean, who was eating his pie. “What was it like?”

After a moment’s reflection, Dean replied, “Intense. I think they’re all getting pissed off that I don’t just fall down and proclaim undying devotion though.”

Sam shook his head and laughed quietly at that. “Only you, Dean, could confuse angels.”

Dean grinned briefly. “It’s a talent.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get them pissed at you; I’ve kinda gotten used to having you around and don’t want you smitten.”

“Guess I’d better avoid Shemael then,” Dean replied. “He pretty much hates me now.”

“Shemale?” Sam frowned, mishearing what Dean had said, and Dean snickered.

“No, Shemael.” He pronounced the name carefully this time. “But it does sound that way.”

“Oh, that makes more sense. So, why does he hate you?”

“He thinks it’s my fault Ja- Jow- the other angel died.”

“How can it be your fault? Obviously Castiel doesn’t think the same thing or he wouldn’t be talking to you any more, right?”

“Castiel thinks they need me to save the world. I guess I’m the freaking cheerleader.”

Sam stared at him at that, then snickered. “Let me know if he gets you in a skirt.”

“Fuck you.”

“So not my type, plus the angels really wouldn’t like it.”

Dean flipped him off before digging into the pie. “Yeah, well, the angel’s hot. Too bad he doesn’t know what to do with it.”

Sam stared at him at that. “Dude, tell me you aren’t thinking of seducing the angel who was sent to help you save me.”

“Can you even seduce an angel?” Dean wondered.

“How the hell do I know; ask Michael Landon!”

Dean burst into laughter. “Shouldn’t I ask Victor French?”

Sam groaned at that. “Dude, I just ate; you’re going to make me sick!”

Still snickering, Dean shrugged. “Well, it’s not like Landon could seduce himself.”

Sam gagged at that and shuddered. “Keep your angel fixations to yourself!”

“Dude, you haven’t seen him!”

“Dude, so not into guys, thanks!”

“Hey, it doubles the playing field.”

Sam chuckled at that. “Your choice, man. You want to get in an angel’s pants, go for it; just don’t come crawling to me when he blasts your ass.”

“That could be fun.”

Sam groaned and stood. “Go to sleep, Dean, please.”

~*~

“The absence of anything is _not_ proof, you know!” Dean yelled at the ceiling of the latest hotel room nearly a month later. “Sam’s being good, so what the fuck!”

Furniture rattled as the angel appeared, the room’s phone crashing to the floor as he stumbled before raising his bruise-shadowed face to meet Dean’s gaze. “I am not at your beck and call, Dean Winchester; there are other battles being fought.”

“Jesus!” Dean stepped forward, raising a hand to turn Castiel’s face gently so he could inspect the damage.

“Our Lord’s Son was not involved in this battle,” Castiel rasped. “Give me time, the vessel will be healed.”

Dean drew back to stare at him. “I kinda knew that, Cas, but right now, it looks pretty painful.”

“He does not feel the pain.”

Dean bit back a sigh. “But you do.”

Castiel stared at him through narrowed eyes, clearly confused. “Pain is transitory; it will fade.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not bad while you still have it.”

“It will pass,” Castiel said roughly, looking away from Dean to stare at the plaid pattern on the wall.

“Oh sit down, and let me take care of it before you bleed on the carpet.”

Castiel looked as if he was going to argue but then nodded and stumbled to the bed to sit, an arm cradled about his ribs.

“We should probably bind those too,” Dean said, noticing how Castiel was sitting. “Shirt off.”

“Why?” Castiel asked though he was already slowly stripping off the tan trench coat he had worn every time Dean had seen him.

“Because it’s kind of hard to wrap cracked ribs when you’re still dressed.”

The angel shook his head even as he shrugged out of his coat, controlling the wince that threatened as he moved and pulling off the tie he wore, then moving to the buttons on his shirt. Once it was unbuttoned, Dean took hold of the shirt and drew it down Castiel’s arms, then laid it aside.

“Stay.” He turned to rummage in their bag of supplies till he found the gauze.

“Stay?” Castiel asked, turning to see him and suppressing a gasp of pain.

“Sit still, Cas; moving hurts when you have cracked ribs,” Dean informed him.

“So I gathered,” the angel answered wryly.

“So... stay.” Dean turned back to him and braced a knee on the bed to begin wrapping Castiel’s ribs.

“Stay,” Castiel sighed, sitting ramrod straight, his breath hissing between his teeth as Dean wound the fabric around him.

“So I guess angels can be trained,” Dean chuckled.

Castiel turned his head to study him through narrowed eyes. “I am not trained.”

“Didn’t really think so, but it’s a pleasant fantasy,” Dean told him, grinning. “By the way, nice six pack.”

“Six pack?”

“Your _vessel_ clearly works out,” Dean explained. “You’re in good shape.”

“My vessel was pleasing in the eye of the Lord,” Castiel allowed with a nod. “It is helpful in the fight against the demon horde.”

Dean stared. “God picks for looks?”

“No, the Lord believes all of His creations are beautiful.”

“Yeah, well, I have to agree on this one.”

“Have you finished binding the wounds on this body?” Castiel asked, craning his neck to look down the length of his body to where Dean’s hands rested on his chest.

“It’s really too bad I didn’t meet this guy before you did,” Dean mused as he stood up. “But now if I looked him up later, I’d be expecting him to be you.” He ran his eyes over Castiel. “Shame.”

“You fault the vessel for giving up his current existence?”

“Well, it would freak me out,” Dean said, “but what I was getting at is that I think he’s hot. Well, his body is; who knows about the personality. But now I know him with your personality. God, where’s the damn tequila?”

“You wish to have carnal relations with this body?” Castiel asked, carefully turning to look at Dean.

“Well, not just the body! I do like actual people, you know!”

“No, I do not know; that is why I am asking.”

“Do you know _anything_ about actual human beings?”

“I have spent my time among the heavenly host,” Castiel said stiffly, his chin rising as he looked away.

“I’m going to guess you never while away an afternoon getting sweaty with each other.”

“Physical pleasure is not a necessity; those of us who find a partner are not looking for that.”

“But you do have partners?” Dean pounced on the information, and Castiel nodded.

“You have met two who were such.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Oh fuck. Please, tell me you’re kidding.”

“Jehoel and Shemael were partnered,” Castiel admitted, his tone sorrowful.

“Christ, no wonder I’m on his shit list,” Dean groaned, causing Castiel to reach out and touch his arm.

“Shemael will not harm you,” he promised, the words strong with assurance.

“Dude, an angel hates my guts. That may be unique in human history.”

“Shemael will not harm you,” Castiel repeated, his hand tightening on Dean’s arm, and Dean smiled crookedly, starting to lean toward him before abruptly straightening up.

“I will protect you,” the angel promised, his voice lowering to a husky rasp.

“My own personal guardian angel?” Dean asked softly, his eyes lowering to the thumb rubbing the inside of his arm. He hesitated briefly, his eyes rising to meet Castiel’s, and then he leaned in to kiss the angel. Castiel went still, his lips unyielding under Dean’s, before he sighed and relaxed, opening his mouth to Dean’s explorations.

That sign of acquiescence had Dean twisting to face Castiel, his free hand rising to cup the back of the angel’s head while he deepened the kiss, groaning softly as he tasted Castiel.

“This is desire,” Castiel whispered, his own hand tangling in the soft fabric of Dean’s shirt.

“This is desire,” Dean agreed. He kissed Castiel again, slowly drawing his tongue back, inviting Castiel’s to follow it. The angel responded, exploring Dean’s mouth, his tongue gliding over teeth and palate before stroking against Dean’s as the kiss deepened.

Dean moaned softly, his hands sliding over Castiel’s back, exploring the muscular planes he’d refrained from touching while tending the angel’s ribs, Castiel gasping into the kiss at the touch even as he arched up into it, the soft sound he made morphing into a gasp of pain before he relaxed again.

The sound made Dean draw back, though not without a final nipping kiss, to meet Castiel’s eyes. “Maybe we’d better wait on your ribs healing to take this any further.”

“I am beginning to understand,” Castiel murmured, more to himself than Dean as he straightened up.

“Okay, another first in human history, I’m telling an angel.... told you so!” Dean grinned, giving rise to an answering expression from the angel before he slowly reached for his shirt and slipped back into it.

“Much as I’d like to continue this, since we really can’t, can you tell me anything about what I need to do... and don’t say save Sam!” Dean couldn’t resist running a hand over Castiel’s chest before he re-buttoned the shirt.

“But that is what the Lord commands,” Castiel murmured, though he tilted his head to watch Dean close his shirt.

“He hasn’t been using those powers this last month,” Dean pointed out. “What more is there?”

“The temptation is still there. He does not understand.”

“Maybe he needs some proof too.”

“Proof. I am growing to despise that word.”

Dean grinned. “Welcome to the human world, Cas. That free will thing’s a bitch.”

“And how do am I to prove to him that God exists when you seem immune to any attempts I make?” Castiel asked, raising a hand to his forehead and wincing.

“He already believes in God; it’s the idea that using those powers to exorcise demons will send him to Hell that he’s not accepting.”

“So I am to do your task for you?”

“I’m asking for a little help here, Cas.” Dean sighed, still toying with Castiel’s buttons.  “He’s stopped because I’m here, but I don’t know how to make him see that powers given by demon blood have to be bad.”

Castiel sighed, his breath gusting over Dean’s hand. “You wish for me to speak to him.”

“It would help. It’s kind of hard to ignore something when an angel tells it to you. You guys are kind of known for honesty.”

Castiel closed his eyes and looked away. “Where is your brother now?”

Dean frowned at Castiel’s expression, watching him as he replied, “He went to get us something to eat. He should be back soon.”

“I will wait for him to return.”

“I can think of ways to fill the time,” Dean murmured, leaning closer again to kiss Castiel, though the angel ducked away and stood.

“I must—this vessel has needs,” he said quickly before vanishing into the bathroom.

Dean sighed. “Look,” he called, raising his voice to be heard through the closed door, “if it’s that big a problem, don’t. We were making some progress on something pretty good, and, well, I can handle Sam if that’s the cost.”

“It is not a problem.” Castiel’s voice was low but calm.

“I thought angels weren’t supposed to lie,” Dean muttered.

The door opened, and Castiel looked out, a light sheen of sweat coating his face. “I do not lie,” he said flatly.

Dean sighed. “Maybe not to the letter, but clearly something’s wrong. Tell me.”

“You wish for me to speak to your brother. I will.”

Dean frowned, studying him. “At what cost to yourself?”

“My cost does not matter. You believe it will help convince your brother, so it is a price that must be paid.”

“Whoa, hold on there! You never said anything about a cost at first. I know you’re new to humanity, so let me lay it out for you. When someone kisses you, they probably don’t want to push you to do something that’s going to hurt you.”

“That is not the reason for my decision,” Castiel rasped.

“You’re sweating, and unless I miss my guess, you’re in pain. Tell me why.”

“You will not believe me.”

“Try me.”

“You do not believe. Or will my punishment be the proof you so desire?”

“No!” Dean exclaimed, springing to his feet. “That’s what I’m trying to avoid, so tell me what’s going on.”

Castiel ran a hand over his face, his eyelids tightening as he brushed against the bruises around his eyes. “I am here to help you convince your brother that the road he is on leads to damnation, not to do it myself.”

Dean sighed. “Okay, so no help.” He eyed Castiel. “Does that mean he can’t ever see you? ‘Cause it’s going to be kind of hard to see where this goes if you keep vanishing every time he’s around.”

“Convince him; then it will not be forbidden.”

“It is till then? Oh, Sammy, you’re listening to me _now_ ,” Dean muttered.

The angel gave a pained laugh at that. “ _This_ convinces you to do the Lord’s work?”

“Hey, the Lord works in mysterious ways.”

“ _You_ told me not to finish that sentence.”

Dean grinned. “Do as I say, not as I do.”

“Does this mean you believe?” Castiel shot back, his eyebrows raised.

“It means... I don’t disbelieve.”

Castiel nodded at that, looking pleased and more at ease. “That is a start.”

“So if I try to kiss you again, are you going to go hide in the bathroom?”

“I was _not_ hiding!”

“Whatever.” Dean grabbed a handful of Castiel’s shirt and tugged him closer, the angel moving along with his urging after a moment’s resistance, his hand pressing against Dean’s chest as their lips pressed together.

Dean drew back, looking down at the hand. “Problem?”

“I can feel your heartbeat,” Castiel said, wonder coloring his tone.

“That’s a plus for us humans,” Dean replied, faint amusement in his voice. “It keeps us alive.”

“I am aware of that fact.”

“Feel free to feel me as much as you like.”

Long fingers stroked over his chest before Castiel’s hand centered over his heart again, and the angel’s head cocked to the side as if listening.

After watching him curiously for a moment, Dean asked, “Can you actually hear my heart?”

Castiel nodded shallowly, refusing to speak and break the rhythm echoing in his ears.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but then he closed it again without speaking and simply let the angel listen. After a time, Castiel sighed, fisted his hand in Dean’s shirt, and pulled him closer for a kiss. Dean’s arms wrapped around him, and he opened to Castiel, the angel already having learned what they both enjoyed in a kiss.

The door opened behind them at that point, and Sam found himself looking at Dean, who was standing there, his arms encircling empty air. “What the hell?”

“Well shit,” Dean sighed. “We are _so_ talking about this!” he yelled at the ceiling.

“You weren’t... Jesus, Dean!”

“What?”

“I cannot believe you!”

“I’m just standin’ here.”

“Groping the empty air!”

“Well, I _was_ groping an angel till he took off ‘cause you got back! Which reminds me, get your ass in here. We’re gonna talk.”

“About you wanting to get funky with your angel? No thanks!” Sam raised his hands, the plastic bag he held banging against his forearm.

“’Bout the fact that I can’t till you believe that demonic blood gives demonic powers and stop usin’ ‘em! Now you’re interfering with my l- sex life!”

“I’m not using them!” Sam shouted. “And thank you for putting your damned sex life before my supposed damnation!”

“I’m not!” Dean shouted back. “I’ve said all along that they were dangerous. And I know you haven’t been using them, but a freaking angel of the freaking Lord says you’re still in danger! And you can’t see him till that’s settled.”

“You mean you can’t fuck him,” Sam snarled.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “What part of an _angel_ says you’re in danger from doing this do you not get? If all I wanted was him, all I’d have to do is walk away, Sammy; you’re the one who’s not allowed to see him.”

“I’m not using them; I’m not seeing Ruby—what more can I do to prove to you, and him, and apparently God that this isn’t what I want?”

“Sam, I did believe you! But I just had an angel lecturing me on how it’s my mission to save you. You’re the one who kept telling me I should have faith in God, so tell me, Sam, am I supposed to call him a liar now?”

“What am I supposed to do, Dean?” Sam asked, his voice breaking. “I can’t drain it out of me.”

“I don’t know, Sam.” He pulled his brother into a quick hug. “I just know that Cas isn’t allowed to help prove the danger to you, and I don’t want to lose either of you. And I’d kinda like to introduce you two.”

“You should be worried that I’m going to warn him about you,” Sam half-joked once he had recovered.

Dean snickered. “I think he might end up in AA if he has to spend too much time around me.”

“Driving an angel to drink? That’s a new one even for you.” Sam gave a half-smile and held up the bag he had been holding. “So, food?”

“God yes. Did you remember the pie?”

“Dude, do I ever forget the pie?”

“Last time you asked me that, you did!”

“Well, I didn’t this time.” Sam reached into the bag, pulled out a Styrofoam container, and tossed it to Dean. “See?”

“Good boy. Now we just need to figure this out so I can continue seducing an angel. A really hot one,” Dean added with a grin up at the ceiling.

“And God thinks _I’m_ heading for damnation?” Sam groaned, taking his food out of the bag, carrying it to the small table against the wall, and beginning to eat.

Dean snickered. “Actually, I’m kind of surprised lightning hasn’t struck, but hey, he knows what he’s getting into.”

“I’m beginning to feel sympathy for him.”’

“So let’s figure this out, and the two of you can commiserate.”

“Bitch about you, you mean, don’t you?”

“More like sing my praises.”

Sam snorted out a laugh at that. “Dude, you so did not say that.”

“What, I don’t deserve my own at least half-heavenly choir?”

“I want to be around when you ask your angel to sing for you.”

Dean grinned again. “I’m pretty sure he’s listening, so I’d bet I’m gonna get an earful next time I see him. I should get an interesting night’s sleep tonight.”

Sam’s expression turned thoughtful at that, and he toyed with his plastic fork. “So he just follows you around all the time?”

“Well, no, I know he’s fought battles when he hasn’t been around, but he tends to show up if I piss him off enough, like today, so he has some way of knowing what I do and say.”

“Word to the wise, pissing someone off is not the best way in the world to get in their pants—and did I really just say that?”

“I am what I am... and do you really think an angel doesn’t already know what that is?” Dean said wryly. “I grow on people.”

“And apparently angels. I’d say God help him, but He is.”

“Which makes me a reward.”

Sam shook his head at that and began cleaning up the remains of their meal. “You are such a freak—and before you say it, I know, no freakier than I am for what I was doing.”

Dean looked around hopefully, but no angel appeared. “We really need to figure what the heck they expect. I don’t know what more you can do; this isn’t _Charmed_ ; I don’t think we can bind your powers.”

“Your obsession with that show is wrong in oh so many ways.”

“Dude, three hot chicks.”

“And binding my powers so I’m not tempted? Hell, I’d say it was worth a try if we had any idea of how to do it.”

“We can check with Bobby, see if he’s ever heard of anything like that. I think we’re into the realm of legends here, but the Colt proved that those can be true.” Dean looked around again, raising his voice slightly to say, “A sign that we’re on the right track would help here, and not a freaking burning bush in the motel room!”

No such sign appeared, and Sam gave a shaky laugh. “That would have been too easy. Hell, this all started out when I drank a demon’s blood; maybe drinking an angel’s blood will balance it out.”

There was a sharp crack, and the yellow-tinged mirror over the dresser cracked diagonally.

Both brothers regarded it with wide eyes. “Uh, I think that’s a no,” Dean finally said. “A pretty emphatic one too. Make a note, no drinking angel blood.”

“Yeah, got it,” Sam rasped, his eyes not leaving the mirror. “So, see what Bobby can find out and keep doing what we’re doing until he has some information?” He looked around, ducking slightly as if expecting another angelic response.

“I think that’s today’s limit for signs and portents,” Dean said, trying for a laugh and failing. “And I’m pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to give us that much.”

“So, yeah, let’s talk to Bobby. Maybe he’ll have some other ideas too.”

“Go for it, he’ll take it better coming from you.”

A short phone call later, they were on their way to Bobby’s, Dean’s ears still ringing from some of the older hunter’s comments. “I think Bobby’s scarier than Castiel,” he muttered.

“Not arguing with you about that,” Sam agreed. “Let me know when you get tired, and I’ll drive.”

“I’ll drive for a while longer,” Dean said, “at least long enough to let Bobby’s reaming stop ringing in my ears before I have to hear Cas’.”

“Lectures worse than Dad, huh? Well, I’m gonna crash while I can. Get me up when you need a break.”

“Will do.”

A few hours passed with the Impala speeding through the darkness until finally Dean had to pull over and shake his brother awake. “You’re up, Sam. I need to get some shut-eye.”

“Gotcha,” Sam yawned, climbing out of the car and stretching before walking to the driver’s side and sliding behind the wheel. Once Dean was in as well, he took off, speeding them through the night toward Bobby’s.

Dean had barely closed his eyes before they snapped open again, at least on some level of reality. “Uh, hi.”

“Tell your brother that he should not mention drinking angel’s blood again, even in jest,” Castiel replied stonily.

“Okay,” Dean replied, watching him warily. “He didn’t mean anything apocalyptic by it, you know. Even I thought he might be on to something there, you know angel blood to negate demon blood. Not that I’m saying he should,” Dean added hastily.

“He should not. The results would be destructive.”

Dean winced. “Okay, yeah, bad idea. Soooo.... are you allowed to say if we’re on the right track with this visit to Bobby?”

Castiel studied him for a long moment, and a tree to the right of the car burst into flames as they sped by it. Dean looked at it with wide eyes before turning back to the angel sitting next to him in the backseat where he’d found himself.

“Uh, thanks but is that a yes?”

“It is all the answer I am allowed to give; you must interpret it on your own.”

“Great,” Dean sighed. “Well, if you can’t give direction...” He smiled slightly and reached for the angel, his hand curling around the nape of Castiel’s neck. Castiel leaned into him, his hands carding through Dean’s hair as they kissed, his lips warm and dry against Dean’s.

“Ribs okay now?” Dean asked, waiting for the nod before pulling Castiel over him and groaning at the sensation of their bodies pressed together.

Castiel twisted, and Dean was on the seat under him, their legs tangled together as he groaned into the kiss. Dean arched up, rubbing against Castiel before sinking back to the seat, his hands on the angel’s ass to pull him closer. A surprised gasp echoed into his mouth, and Castiel ground down against him, rubbing their bodies together through the many layers of clothes they wore.

Dean groaned into the kiss, his legs spreading so that he could wrap them around Castiel’s hips, drawing them even closer together, and Castiel gave a soft gasp at the more intimate contact. He pulled back, staring down at Dean, his thumbs brushing over Dean’s cheekbones. “You are desire.”

“It goes both ways,” Dean assured Castiel, squirming lazily under him, causing the angel to draw in a quick breath before pressing down more firmly against Dean, holding him still.

“It is... distracting. You are distracting to me,” Castiel admitted.

“Is that really such a bad thing?”

“The fate of the world balances on what is happening right now.”

“And we’re still doing everything we can. But humans snatch at moments of happiness where we can; we need them to keep going.”

“That is what makes your race so wondrous and what makes Lucifer and his minions strive so mightily to subjugate you.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not real good at subjugation,” Dean pointed out. “Human beings for the most part don’t like being enslaved. We tend to fight back. Hard.”

“So I have seen.” Castiel’s thumb shifted upward to trace the thin skin around Dean’s eye, the texture seeming to fascinate him.

“We also fight harder when we have something to fight _for_.”

“Do you not?”

“Of course I do, but immediate personal motivation helps too.”

“I do not understand,” the angel admitted after a moment.

Dean sighed softly. “Saving humanity is a pretty powerful motivator, but it’s also a pretty distant concept. Saving my brother and getting to know a guy—or angel—that I like is immediate and personal. It puts a face on what I’m fighting for.”

“That is why I was sent to you.”

Dean laughed sharply. “I’m pretty sure _this_ was not in the grand design.”

“No,” the angel admitted, his touch moving to Dean’s eyebrow. “And that is what makes your race so amazing; you can and do surprise even God.”

“And His angels?” Dean grinned up at him.

“And His angels,” Castiel admitted, his lips curving slightly before he bent inward, brushing his mouth over Dean’s.

“Lucky me,” Dean breathed against Castiel’s lips before they closed over his, the angel sealing their mouths together. Dean happily followed his lead, working a hand between them to rub a thumb over one of Castiel’s nipples. The move drew a rough gasp from his throat and caused Castiel to draw back to stare down at Dean, his blue eyes dark with barely understood desire.

“Isn’t the human body fun?” Dean said teasingly, a fond smile on his lips.

“Terrifyingly so. And if I touched you there?” Castiel moved his hand to trace over Dean’s chest, his fingers brushing the peaked mound of his nipple through the soft cotton of his shirt and making Dean moan and twist under him.

“Maybe you need to try that again,” he suggested breathlessly.

Castiel’s lips curved into a small smile, and he repeated the move, catching the nub between his fingers as they slid over it.

“Mm, quick learner,” Dean whispered in a near purr. “Can’t wait to see how you like the rest of it.”

“SHUT UP!!!” Sam’s shout came a split second before a fist hit Dean in the arm, making Dean jerk and sit up abruptly, his eyes flying open.

“Shit! Dude, you are going to be _so_ sorry next time you try to hook up!”

“No worries there and you’re lucky I didn’t pull over and puke on you!”

Dean had to laugh. “Better watch it, Sammy; you’re giving an angel blue balls.”

Sam held a hand up, a pained expression on his face. “No more, _please_.”

Still snickering, Dean mimed zipping his lips, though he couldn’t resist adding, “He gets that same expression.”

“He who?” Sam asked, still distracted by the noises he had been trying to ignore until they drowned out the music from his iPod.

“Castiel. Who do you think?” Dean’s expression added ‘duh’, to which Sam rolled his eyes.

“How do I know!”

“Who else have I been talking about?!”

“Fine, fine, you have an obsession with an angel, got it!”

“Hey, he likes me too!”

“Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

Dean laughed. “It’s the kinder, gentler me.”

“In what universe?”

“Do you _want_ me to bitch slap you?”

“Hey, you’re the one going all hearts and flowers over the guy—angel. Can you blame me for feeling a little lost?”

Dean shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. “It’s not something I expected or planned, but I like him. And at least I don’t have to worry about something from our life blindsiding him like I would with anyone else.”

Sam glanced at him, a look akin to wonderment on his face. “He makes you feel safe.”

Dean frowned at him. “I’m not looking for a protector.”

“Didn’t say you were. Dean, feeling safe is a good thing. Hell, I’m not sure either of us ever has.”

Staring straight ahead, Dean asked, “Not even when you were away at college, away from all this, with Jess?”

Sam drew in a shaky breath at that reminder. “I kept waiting for it all to fall apart, and it did. And I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Dean winced. “There never is, Sammy. Mom was a hunter and tried to have a normal life, but we both know where it got her. The only way to win is to stop them, and that means never giving in.”

“And how do we stop them, Dean?” Sam asked bitterly.

“We fight them, Sam. We stay on the right side and do the right thing, and we keep fighting. Every demon and ghoul and God knows what all that we stop is one less on their side, one less way to hurt and kill people.”

“Next time you see your angel, why don’t you ask him why God doesn’t stop it.”

Dean smiled wryly. “Been there, done that. He reminded me that he pulled me out of Hell and he could throw me back in.”

“What?!”

“Told you I drive him nuts sometimes. But that was early days; I think he’s found better ways to shut me up now.”

“Don’t go there again, please,” Sam begged.

“I’m hoping he’s taking notes,” Dean admitted with a grin, and Sam groaned.

“Just go back to sleep—and don’t dream!”

“You’re no fun at all!” Dean laughed.

“Good!”

Still grinning, Dean asked, “How long was I asleep?”

“Couple of hours,” Sam grumbled. “I’m still good.”

“Okay then, wake me when you need a break.” Dean leaned his head back and closed his eyes again.

Sam nodded and tapped his iPod, turning the music on again.

~*~

“So, did you find anything?” Dean asked Bobby by way of greeting as he and Sam got out of the Impala.

“Nothing specific, but then I’ve only had a few hours to look,” the older man allowed, studying the brothers from under the rim of his battered ball cap. “Now that the two of you are here, we can cover more ground.”

“Good, because I’m really feeling inspired to figure this out,” Dean told him, stretching hugely.

Bobby looked at Sam questioningly, and the younger man winced. “You don’t want to know, you really don’t.”

“Hey, at least Bobby’s met Cas.”

“I shot him, you knifed him, and he put me to sleep!”

“Yeah, well, Dean knows him a lot better,” Sam commented.

“We moved past the violence,” Dean said blandly before breaking into a grin as Bobby stared at him before muttering a prayer under his breath.

“Can we get to work?” Sam asked, almost pleading.

“I’d think you’d be happy that I’m interested in someone who can’t possibly turn out to be a demon or anything evil,” Dean pointed out as they went inside, Sam punching him in the arm without breaking stride as they headed toward Bobby’s study, the older man walking behind them, shaking his head and muttering about how he really didn’t want to know.

“Wusses,” Dean snickered, looking very pleased with himself, and Sam looked back at Bobby.

“I’m not going to leave him alone until this is over,” he said conversationally.

“What?” Dean nearly screamed, spinning on his heel to stare at his brother. “You are _so_ not going to chaperone me.”

“Wanna bet?”

“I _will_ lock you in the trunk if I have to!”

“I’ll put No Doze in your coffee,” Sam threatened right back.

“Then he’ll just come when I’m awake,” Dean retorted. “Not a bad thing, Sam.”

“Not if I’m there,” Sam reminded him.

“You’ll be locked in the trunk.”

“Dear Lord, take me now,” Bobby groaned, and Sam had to snicker, amused with the situation even though his own fate was still in limbo.

“At least I’m only asking an angel to do that,” Dean observed, and Bobby goggled at him.

“I did _not_ mean it that way, and you damn well know it.”

“You should say what you mean, Bobby,” Dean informed him, trying not to laugh.

“I’m gonna take these books and cram ‘em up your ass, boy,” Bobby growled, and Sam choked back laughter.

“Not what he wants up there,” he gasped out.

“So let’s figure this out so I can work on that,” Dean retorted.

Bobby looked from one brother to the other, muttered something about ‘priorities’, and shook his head. “All right, I ain’t been able to find much yet. Binding demonic powers ain’t the most popular subject; it tends to be exorcisms or banishments, but there’s more to look through.”

“Well, we pretty much have to figure this out ‘cause our only other idea inspired angelic wrath,” Dean said with a not entirely feigned shudder.

“Angel blood,” Sam explained at Bobby’s inquiring look. “What? It seemed like it would counteract the demon blood!”

“I thought so too,” Dean admitted, “but the reaction was right out of the Old Testament.”

“What the hell did he do?” Bobby asked, now checking them over for obvious injuries.

“Huh? Bobby, he’s on our side. He broke a mirror. And provided a burning bush when I talked to him about coming to talk to you about binding the demonic blood in Sam.”

“From Lazarus to Moses... This is giving me a headache.”

“I know the feeling,” Sam nodded, carrying the books Bobby had given him over to the ratty couch in the living room and sitting down.

“I don’t have a headache,” Dean informed the ceiling before grabbing a book and sitting down as well.

“Good, then get to readin’,” Bobby ordered.

“I don’t suppose you could flip the pages conveniently?” Dean asked the ceiling hopefully.

Sam groaned and threw a threadbare cushion in his direction.

“Careful with the books!” Bobby growled.

“It was worth a shot,” Dean sighed, finally settling in to the research.

The three spent most of the day looking through old volumes of lore, pausing only to stretch, eat, and use the bathroom.

“Are we sure there’s nothing in the Bible?” Dean eventually asked during a sanity break, stretching hugely. “The not-for-tourists version, that is.”

“I think this post-dates the Bible,” Bobby commented before taking a swig from his bottle of beer. “Even in the other versions, the concern is more destroying anything demonic than binding it.”

“Great. Where are the Halliwells when you need them?” Dean muttered.

“Dude, you are so not going to start rhapsodizing over them again, are you?” Sam moaned.

“Naw, they’re hot, smokin’ hot, but I have my own personal not-guardian angel to think about. Much hotter,” Dean assured him.

“Saltpeter, I’m sure I have some somewhere,” Bobby muttered under his breath before draining his beer.

“I’m pretty sure that would piss off my angel,” Dean informed him with a snicker.

“Can we focus here, please?” Sam asked, looking as if he was tempted to throw something against the wall—or at Dean—again.

“Oh, I am,” Dean assured him, a tiny, sensual smile curving his lips, for once not intended solely to get a rise out of his brother.

“Not on that!” Sam and Bobby both groaned.

“Think of it as divine inspiration.”

“Actually, I’m thinking of it as vomit-inducing,” Sam shuddered, “so we aren’t going to talk about it anymore.” With that he went back to reading, firmly ignoring his brother.

Hours passed with occasional pauses for food before Dean suddenly swore. “Oh, this is so whacked. Someone look at this and tell me that I’m misunderstanding what I think it says.”

Bobby took the book Dean had been reading, scanning the page until he reached the passage Dean had obviously been speaking about. “Well, that sure puts a hell of a kink in all this.”

“What does?” Bobby handed Sam the book without another word, and the younger man read the page in question. “The Holy Grail? We have to find the Holy Grail to bind my powers? Oh, we are so screwed.”

“Forget the Halliwells; we need freakin’ Monty Python!” Dean growled.

“Yah, well yah ain’t gonna get the Grail with jokes and puns,” Bobby pointed out. “What do you two know about it?”

“It’s supposed to be the cup Christ drank from at the Last Supper,” Sam replied hastily before Dean could come out with something from the movie.

“Yup, that it is.”

“And haven’t people been looking for it ever since?” Dean wanted to know. “How the hell are we supposed to find the thing? I didn’t even think it was real.”

Sam shook his head and pointed a finger at him. “You didn’t believe in angels a few weeks ago, and now you want to get it on with one.”

“Good thing I got used to him before this,” Dean grumbled. “The freaking Grail. This is just too weird.” He looked at Bobby. “Do we have any information on the thing? Any idea where to start looking for it?”

Wordlessly the older man stood and left the room, coming back a few minutes later with an even larger pile of books. “That’s the history; I’d say you need to check out the internet as well.”

Dean eyed the pile and groaned. “God hates me.”

“Maybe so, but at least one of his angels doesn’t,” Sam had to laugh.

“Thank God,” Dean sighed before stopping with an arrested expression on his face. “Nawww, couldn’t be,” he said slowly.

Bobby looked at him from over the books. “Couldn’t be, what?”

“Well, if you buy into the all-knowing God thing, He had to know how I’d react to Cas.”

“Tell me you just didn’t say that God pimped out one of His angels,” Bobby begged.

“Well, I doubt He’s _pimping_ him!” Dean exclaimed.

“How else could you get anyone to sleep with you?” Sam muttered.

Dean glared at him. “I’ve never had any trouble with that!” he retorted indignantly.

“Boys, do I have to send yah to different rooms?”

“Only for sleeping,” Dean told him, pulling a face at Sam.

“ _I_ can behave,” Sam shot back.

“ _I_ don’t want to be interrupted.”

“Too bad!”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think Cas needs a chaperone.”

“He just might, considering!”

“We can let him decide that! It’s not like I can overpower an angel if he’s not interested!”

“This is you, Dean...”

Dean glared, but before he could say anything, Bobby cut in. “Enough!” he roared. “Sam, keep your nose out of Dean’s love life. Dean, keep your love life out of our faces! Now read!”

“Yessir,” both of them said sheepishly, though they did make faces at each other before delving into the new pile of books Bobby had delivered.

Once again hours passed with only the soft sound of their breathing and pages turning, and Dean dozed off in his chair in the middle of reading one of the books only to awaken to the feel of a single finger tracing over his hairline.

“Cas.” Dean opened his eyes with a smile. “Right track this time?”

The angel looked down from where he stood next to the couch Dean was lying on. “I do not think your friend would care to have his house burned to the ground in answer to that question.”

Dean smiled lazily. “Well, burning seems to mean yes for you lately, so I’m taking it that way. Now why don’t you come here and say hello properly?” he suggested, tugging Castiel down on top of him, the angel turning what might have been an unruly tumble into a graceful fall.

“You should not torment your brother so,” he murmured, the words brushing his lips against Dean’s.

“That’s what brothers do, at least human ones,” Dean assured him. “If I didn’t, he might try to exorcise me.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed in confusion, and he pulled back to stare down at Dean. “But you have never been possessed.”

“If I started being nice to him, he’d think I was.”

“I do not understand,” Castiel admitted after a long moment.

Dean looped his arms around Castiel’s waist, looking up into the confused blue eyes. “It’s just the way our relationship is. We’re not flowery guys. We joke and torment each other; it’s how we know everything’s okay. It’s when we stop joking that we know the shit’s about to hit the fan.”

“If that is how the two of you relate, then I will not question it.”

“You can question anything you want,” Dean told him. “I’m happy to tell you what you want to know.”

“I have... little experience dealing with your race,” Castiel admitted, his fingers still moving over the fine, soft hairs at Dean’s brow.

“I kinda like that you’ve never done this with anyone else,” Dean admitted, earning another curious look.

“I am not sure why this would be; everything I was given to know about you says otherwise.”

“That I go for experienced partners, not woolly lambs?” Dean waited for the nod before continuing, “That’s... not the same.”

“Why?”

“You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?” Dean sighed wryly. “That was just sex, and it’s more fun in the short term when you both know what you’re doing. But you and me, this isn’t just sex, and I like that I’m going to be able to teach you what you like... and what I like.”

That earned him a shallow nod and a whispered question. “What do you like, Dean?”

“You. I like touching you and having you touch me. I like listening to you, and I love the way you look at me.”

Castiel studied him closely at that, his fingers pausing in their repetitive motions. “The Lord did not command me to do this,” he said seriously.

A slow smile curved Dean’s lips. “Bobby will be relieved to hear it.”

“He cares for you as your father did.”

“He’s a lot better at showing it though. I’m glad you gave me the chance to meet him before the demon changed him. It explained a lot.”

“Finding peace is a good thing—and you shared that with your brother.”

“Yeah, he needed it. He doesn’t remember our mom at all or anything before Dad became a hunter.”

“It was necessary for you to know as well—and not simply for you to learn what we know.”

“I get it. I may not like it sometimes, but I get it. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“And does this help you to believe?”

“I... I’m working on it.”

Castiel nodded again and brushed his lips over Dean’s. “I am pleased.”

Dean had to chuckle. “You’ve got one heck of a positive reinforcement technique there.”

“I am not using physical gratification to convince you that God exists!”

“I didn’t mean that! Just that you like it when I start to believe, and when you’re in a good mood, you show it.”

“I do?” The familiar head tilt and brow furrow were back.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, you do.” He raised his head to kiss Castiel, but the angel would not be deterred.

“How?”

“You actually almost smile sometimes... and you kiss me. You don’t do that when you’re irritated.”

“I feel you are beginning to know more about myself in this form than I do.”

“That’s part of the fun of this couples thing. You get to know each other.”

Castiel was silent for a moment before leaning in and kissing Dean lingeringly, his lips sliding against Dean’s until they opened, admitting his tongue. A throaty groan escaped Dean, only partially muffled by the mouth against his, and he curled a leg over Castiel’s, gaining leverage to rock up against him.

The angel sighed into the kiss, the breathy sound holding surprised pleasure as Dean pulled them close. Remembering their earlier kiss, he slid a hand up Dean’s chest, stroking the strong planes beneath his shirt, feeling them clench beneath his fingers.

“Mmm, good,” Dean murmured against Castiel’s lips before licking them, making a soft sound of delight at the flavor of him.

Castiel opened his mouth, capturing Dean’s tongue as it stroked against his lips and sucking it into his mouth, making Dean groan and cup Castiel’s ass in his hands to pull him down hard and grind against him. Castiel rocked down against him, his breath coming quicker as they moved together.

“Oh yeah, that’s it, Cas,” Dean breathed, his whole body afire with pleasure.

“Dean,” the angel breathed, his hand sliding to Dean’s shoulder, and a bolt of pleasure as intense as lightning tore through him as his hand covered the mark he had left as he pulled Dean from Hell.

“Oh Christ,” Dean gasped, his whole body arching off the sofa and shuddering with almost painful pleasure at the touch. “Feels so good!”

Castiel groaned into his mouth, the angel’s fingers delving beneath the short sleeve of Dean’s t-shirt, then tightening over the scarred mark on his arm, shuddering at the pleasurable sensations rocketing through him.

Dean could only writhe beneath Castiel, the intense sensation short-circuiting his brain and leaving nothing else—at least until Bobby’s voice broke through the haze of his dream. “Dean, get yer ass up; we’ve got work to do!”

Dean’s eyes shot open, but it took him a moment to focus on Bobby, and then he yelled, “FUCK!!!!” He slumped back onto the sofa, his eyes closing in disbelief, and he groaned, “God, Cas, I’m sorry!”

That earned Dean a cuff on the side of the head and a snicker from Sam, who had just walked into the room, yawning widely before taking a drink from his mug of coffee.

“So not funny, dude,” Dean grumbled.

“Actually, from this side, it sorta is.”

“I’ll remind you that you said that when you and Castiel finally meet.”

“Which isn’t any time in the foreseeable future,” Sam pointed out wryly.

“You just had to say it, didn’t you?” Dean gave him a dirty look, not enjoying the reminder.

“Considering it’s my ass in a sling over what you all think I’m going to do, yeah, I did,” Sam answered almost mutinously.

Dean regarded him silently for a long moment before getting to his feet. “I really don’t enjoy the fact that I finally find someone I could actually l-like a lot, and I can’t be with him, Sam,” he said quietly before going into the kitchen to get some coffee.

“Dean, I...” Sam started before sighing and looking over at Bobby, “really put my foot in it that time.”

“Yup,” Bobby agreed. “But it’s not entirely yer fault; no one’s used ta Dean takin’ a relationship seriously. It’s hard to wrap yer mind around.”

Sam regained a little of his hard-won good humor at that. “It figures it would take an angel to do that.”

“Dean always did have to do everything his own way,” Bobby replied wryly.

“Bobby, that is a _major_ understatement,” Sam snorted. “So, we’d better feed him before he takes his interrupted dream out on us—and then maybe we can see if Castiel gave him any useful information.”

“Judging by Dean’s reaction, they weren’t talking.”

“We’re on the right track,” Dean told them, coming back with a mug of coffee clutched tightly in his hand.

Sam turned to look at him, relief spreading over his expressive features. “We are?”

“He said he couldn’t prove it with a sign ‘cause he didn’t want to burn the house down,” Dean said with a wry grin.

“But you were dreaming!”

“He’s an angel, Sam. Things he does in that reality have a habit of bleeding into this one.”

“How about we eat, then work at trying to track that thing down,” Bobby suggested before the brothers started sniping at each other again.

“Sounds good. But let’s hope we can find someplace a little more recent to start than Jerusalem two thousand years ago,” Dean said wryly before drinking more of his coffee. “That’s more of a road trip than I’m up for.”

“I’ll start checking the web,” Sam suggested.

“And I’ll see what other hunters I know. I have some contacts in Rome, can’t hurt to start there.”

“Sounds good,” Dean agreed. “And I guess that leaves me to keep digging through the moldy books.”

“Eat first,” Bobby corrected.

Dean grinned. “I never forget that.”

“Yeah, just leave some for the rest for us.”

“Why?”

“Because if you eat it all, neither of us will cook again, and you’ll have to eat your own,” Bobby informed him, making Dean pretend to cower.

“Uncle!”

Sam chuckled, and he and Bobby set about making breakfast, Dean making more coffee when they drained the pot. The three of them sat down to eat, discussing their situation as they made their way through eggs, bacon, and toast.

~*~

“Please, someone tell me you found something,” Dean begged later that morning. “If I read any more of this, I might gouge my eyes out. King Arthur isn’t helping!”

“Carla said she’d check around and see what she could find,” Bobby answered, looking up from his own books as Sam straightened up and rubbed his back where he sat at the computer.

“Las Vegas.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose. “You have a yen for neon?”

“It’s a lead. Colin Masters, he’s a collector. There’s a rumor floating around that he has the Grail.”

“An actual person to look for? Sammy, I think I love you!”

“Just remember that the next time I wake you up.”

“Then I’ll hate you again.”

Bobby rubbed his chin and leaned back in his char. “You boys are forgettin’ an important part of the mythology around the Grail.”

“What?” both brothers asked in nearly perfect chorus.

“You have to be pure to touch it.”

Dean stared at Sam.

Sam stared at Dean.

They both stared at Bobby.

“Exactly.”

“Well how are we supposed to get it then?” Sam asked.

“I think we’d better hope that if we actually find it, Cas’ll be allowed to help out at that point. ‘Cause, dude, _so_ not pure here.”

“Then maybe you’d better keep your dreaming G-rated until this is over.”

“He’s an angel,” Dean pointed out dryly. “That’s pretty much the definition of pure.”

“Angels have been known to fall,” Bobby pointed out.

“And what if he isn’t allowed to help?”

“Then we’re screwed unless one of you knows a virgin. Hmm, maybe a kid,” Dean mused.

“We’re gonna kidnap a kid to help us get the Holy Grail?”

“Who said anything about kidnapping? You must know someone who’s got a kid.”

“Me?” Sam asked, staring at him.

“Of course not you, Bobby!” Dean rolled his eyes.

“There ain’t any hunters I can think of, and I sure as hell wouldn’t take any innocent into this.”

“So we’re back to hoping Cas can help at that point. I’ll ask him next time I see him.”

“Just make sure you do that first.”

“Of course I will. If we don’t figure this out, I’m stuck with only dreams,” Dean pointed out.

“Glad you have motivation,” Sam snorted. “I’ll see what else I can find.”

Dean nodded. “I’m going to go for a walk. I’ll be back in a little while.” He was hoping that once he was on his own, Castiel would appear again so he could find out if they were wasting their time.

Once he was deep within the piles of crushed and broken cars, Castiel stepped out into the aisle ahead of him.

“Fancy seein’ you here.” Dean smiled crookedly.

“Dean.” Castiel’s lips quirked into a small smile.

“So, we’re supposed to talk now. About angelic purity and the Grail.” Dean took a step closer.

“You do not believe that you can touch the Grail?” Castiel asked, cocking his head to the side and studying Dean intently as he approached.

“Not if you have to be pure,” Dean laughed. “I haven’t qualified for that since I was a teenager.”

“Virginity does not equate with purity.”

“Oh? Well, even so, I went to Hell. I think that kinda leaves me out.”

“You did not go to Hell for your deeds.” Castiel reached out, his hand hovering over Dean’s upper left arm. “If you had deserved your fate, you surely would not have been raised up.”

His eyes on Castiel’s hand, Dean replied, “Well, that’s good to know, but unless you flat out tell me it’s safe for me to touch it, I’m going on the assumption that trading my soul, even if it was to save my brother, puts me out of the pure category.”

The angel was silent, his head still cocked to the side, though now it was as if he was listening to voices that only he could hear. “You may touch the Grail, but only if you believe you may.”

Dean’s eyes widened slightly, finally rising to meet Castiel’s again. “Oh great,” he groaned. “That’s your way of telling me that you can’t help with that part, isn’t it? I’m going to have to do it myself.”

“You have to believe that of yourself: that you are good, that you are worthy. No one else can do this for you.”

“Well, at least that ought to convince Sam and Bobby that I’m not planning to kidnap some unsuspecting kid,” Dean said wryly, edging a little closer so that the slightest further movement would have Castiel’s hand touching the scar on Dean’s arm.

The angel drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes, a fingertip skimming the marked flesh before he drew his hand back, the effect of even that slight touch visible in his stance and the lines of tension bracketing his mouth. Dean raised a hand, his thumb lightly brushing over the tightened skin before he kissed Castiel.

“I wish you didn’t have to keep disappearing,” he whispered against the angel’s lips and then kissed him again, Castiel pulling back after a moment.

“It is not what I—We must do our duty,” he murmured.

“I understand... but I don’t have to like it,” Dean finished dryly.

“I understand that as well,” Castiel nodded, letting his hand come to rest on Dean’s elbow.

“I want Sam to meet you... and Bobby too, for longer than a second where he’s trying to kill you,” Dean added wryly.

“He was not successful,” Castiel reminded him.

“I noticed. But next time we’re all in the same room, I’d prefer it without any life-threatening situations.”

Castiel nodded at that, his thumb stroking the inside of Dean’s elbow. “When this is resolved.”

Dean hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Will you still be around then?”

“That is not for me to say,” the angel answered after a long silence.

Dean suddenly seemed to find the ground at his feet fascinating. “Yeah,” he muttered, “that’s about what I expected.”

Castiel reached out and tipped his head up so that they were eye to eye. “I cannot say what is to come in this battle, but I will do everything in my power to see you once it is over.”

Dean dredged up a faint smile for the angel. “This kinda gives new meaning to complicated.”

“Have faith, Dean.”

“I’m trying, Cas. But everyone I... care about dies.”

“Have faith,” Castiel repeated, his fingers sliding against the raspy stubble on Dean’s cheek before he vanished.

Dean sighed, closing his eyes to concentrate on the fading warmth of his cheek before going back inside to let Bobby and Sam know what Castiel had told him.

~*~

“This really isn’t how I thought of visiting Vegas,” Dean said, looking out at the strip through the Impala’s windshield.

Sam glanced out at the sea of neon and made a face. “I’d never really thought of visiting here at all.”

“I always thought it sounded like fun.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“Because it’s a cool place.” Dean grinned. “Cas would probably agree with you though.”

“Gambling, cheap drinks, and half-naked women, yup, sounds like his type of place.”

Dean’s smile widened. “It has honeymoon suites too.”

Sam cringed and closed his eyes. “Dude, I did _not_ need to think of you and your nebulous angel in a champagne glass Jacuzzi!”

“That sounds like fun,” Dean mused. “And he’s anything but nebulous. Just ask Bobby.”

“I’ve heard—and since what we can afford isn’t on the Strip, just why are we driving down it?”

“Dude! We’re in _Vegas_ ; how could we _not_ drive down it?”

“By taking the by-pass,” Sam said dryly.

Dean shook his head sadly. “You’re hopeless.”

“Right now I’m sort of fixated on other things.”

“Been there, done that. We need to keep living while we’re surviving,” Dean said, glancing over as Sam. “Or do you really want to end up like Dad?”

“This is a little different than Dad, Dean!”

“Whoa, there, Sam!” Dean exclaimed, startled. “I just meant that you can’t concentrate on this to the exclusion of everything else. That leads to a lonely, bitter hunter like Dad, like... Well, like that.”

“We’re looking at the short-term—at least I hope we are, otherwise, it might not matter.”

“Yeah. I guess it’s just that for the first time I actually have something to look forward to.”

Sam smiled wistfully at that. “Tell you what, we survive this and I’ll spring for a suite for the two of you at the Bellagio.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Dean warned him, smiling.

“Just don’t steal the towels.”

“I can assure you that I’m not going to have the slightest interest in the towels.”

Sam shook his head and looked out the windows at the insanely lit circus around them. “You won’t even make it out of the room.”

“That _is_ my plan.”

“Okay, I have to ask—what’s the point of being in Vegas then?”

Dean shrugged. “I always wanted to. And we might surface for a day.”

Sam chuckled at that and started to answer. “At least to give the maids time to...” His voice trailed away and his head turned as he stared at a spot on the sidewalk.

“What is it?”

“Ruby. I think I just saw her.”

“What?” Dean stomped on the brakes and twisted around to peer back. “I don’t see her.”

The cars behind them blasted their horns in response to the sudden stop, but Sam ignored them as he scanned the crowd, looking for the face he had glimpsed. “I don’t know—I thought I saw her...”

“That’s probably not good... though it might mean we’re getting closer. And I’ve gotta tell you, Sam, if it is her, I’ve got no problem sending her skanky ass back to Hell.”

“You don’t—I know I’m not supposed to using my powers, I get that, but are you sure that she’s evil?”

Dean looked at him. “Just who was it who was encouraging you to use those powers?”

Sam rubbed his forehead at that. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“We’re gonna get through this, Sam. We always do.”

“Call it being an emo girl, but she was what held me together while you were gone. I get that it was to push me to use, but without it... I don’t know where I’d be,” Sam admitted.

“Yeah, well, I’m grateful you’re still here, but you’re selling yourself short, I think. Not to mention that I don’t want us to end up an illustration for ‘the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.’”

“Yeah.” Sam rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “So, going to gawk some more or are we going to find a room?”

“Both, of course.” Dean turned off the strip toward hotels they could afford.

“Just remember we need to check out Masters’ house later, so don’t get lost in the casino once we get there.”

“Not till this is dealt with; I need someone to share that honeymoon suite with.”

“If you take Castiel to the Elvis chapel, God might strike you down.”

Dean burst into laughter. “Oh, it might be worth it to see the expression on Cas’ face!”

“I’d be willing to see it when he hears you call him _that_.”

“What, Cas? I call him that all the time.”

“To his face?”

“Yeah. I don’t usually turn my back when I’m talking to him. Oh, you mean ‘cause it’s a nickname? He doesn’t seem to mind. Though he did look disgusted the time I called him Cassy,” Dean remembered with a snicker.

“Well, that _is_ your ex’s name,” Sam laughed.

“Huh, I never even though of that,” Dean admitted. “I was just trying to annoy him.”

“You don’t mean to get a rise out of him?” Sam asked as Dean pulled the Impala off the road and into the parking lot of a motel that looked like it was straight out of a 1960s Rat Pack movie.

“That too. But I’ve found better ways to do it since.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.” Sam waited until Dean parked, then got out of the car, rubbing the small of his back as he looked around the seedy parking lot.

“Come on, let’s get settled in, and then we can go see about Masters.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, looking out toward the road and frowning slightly before following Dean inside.

“Something wrong?” Dean asked once they were in their room, the door locked behind them.

“Just feeling a little spooked is all,” Sam admitted.

“Oh, by seeing Ruby? She’s the one who should be worried about us. But she’s second to the Grail; that’s the first thing we need to deal with.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Sam rubbed his forehead again. “So, any idea how we’re going to get into this place?”

Dean frowned. “Not really,” he admitted. “High-end alarm systems are a little outside my experience.”

“Well... we have the knife.”

“It shuts down alarms?” Dean regarded him blankly.

“No,” Sam said tiredly, “we use it as a way to get it. He’s a collector of antiquities that have supposed angelic origins.”

“Oh right.” Dean eyed him. It was a good idea, not that Dean was likely to admit that to his brother. “So, you gonna contact him or set up an eBay page or something?”

“Already done, it’s better to let him come to us.”

Dean nodded. “We should probably try to get some shut-eye then, while we can.”

Sam glanced over at the beds, then at Dean. “Just so you know, any suspicious noises I’m going to smother you with a pillow.”

“Get earplugs.”

Sam gave him a look and tossed his duffle on the bed before rummaging through it for a change of clothes. “I just may.”

“Good! Then maybe for once we won’t be interrupted.” Dean smirked at him.

“I really hate you,” San groaned.

“But Cas doesn’t.”

“You’re so whipped. Have you admitted to believing in God yet?”

Dean flipped him off. “I’m... thinking about it.”

Sam paused on his way to the bathroom and half-turned to look back at Dean. “Jesus, you’ve seriously fallen for him, haven’t you?”

Dean shrugged, which was an answer in itself, and Sam chewed his lower lip as he stared at his older brother. “I’m... happy for you, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, we still have a few issues to work out.”

“Like stopping the apocalypse?”

“Yeah.” Dean chuckled wryly. “Though at least he said he’s going to try to hang around once this is all over, not just vanish back to Heaven.”

“That’s a good thing then, give you two a chance to get to know each other.” Sam frowned at that before making a face. “And don’t tell me I sound like freaking Dear Abby.” He ducked into the bathroom at that.

Dean stretched out on one of the beds, snickering, and his eyes closed as he waited for Sam to come back out. When Sam returned, he was sound asleep, leaving the younger man to turn out the lights and climb into bed himself after checking their weapons to assure himself that they were close at hand. “You so better not wake me up,” he muttered into the darkness.

Sam’s fears were groundless as both brothers slept soundly through the night, only waking when the sunlight through the window grew too bright to ignore.

Dean sat up, stretching, and he glanced over at Sam. “See, no interruptions. And much as I’d have liked to see Castiel, I have to admit that an unbroken night’s sleep was good.”

Sam nodded fervently as he stood, grabbing his laptop and plugging it in before booting it up. “I have to agree.”

“Once the two of you can be in the same place at the same time, we’re going to have to start getting two rooms,” Dean mused.

“Just so you know, I am _not_ driving the two of you around while you make out in the back seat.” Sam clicked the mouse a few times before turning the screen so that Dean could see the screen which was showing an eBay page featuring the knife.

“Aww, come on, why not?” Dean hid his smirk.

Sam threw a pillow in his direction before turning the laptop back toward himself and typing in a few commands. “Nothing yet that I can tell.”

“Of course not. When we need time, everything comes at us, but when we’re waiting, it takes forever. I’m gonna get a shower. Yell if anything happens.”

“Will do.” Sam waited until Dean went into the bathroom before walking over to the outside door and opening it, looking out over the parking lot as if expecting to see someone. He didn’t and finally closed the door again.

A few minutes later, Dean walked out, a towel around his waist and his hair standing up in wet spikes. “At least we have good water pressure,” he observed. “Still no hits?”

“Hrmm?” Sam asked, looking up, blinking as if surprised at Dean’s appearance. “Sorry, I haven’t looked.”

Dean frowned, watching Sam closely. “Something else came up?”

“Just started thinking is all.” Sam quirked a half-grin at that though it didn’t reach his eyes. “And not a word about that.”

“Should I get a fire extinguisher?”

“Jerk. Do you even listen to a word I say?”

“Sure, when you say something worth listening to. So, what were you thinking about?”

“Scotchguarding the seats if you must know. Lemme go get a shower, then we can grab something to eat and figure out what to do while we wait.”

“Dude, we’re in Vegas. We need to hit the casinos.”

“With what money?” Sam asked as he headed into the bathroom.

“We can work up a stake,” Dean replied easily. “Pull an advance on the credit card.”

Sam’s groan could be heard before the sound of the water drowned it out.

Dean sighed, sinking down onto the edge of one of the beds, his head falling forward. “Oh, Sammy, what the fuck’s going on?”

~*~

“Dude, they are so on to you,” Sam snorted as they returned to the motel room.

“What? I didn’t do anything,” Dean protested with spurious innocence.

“Tell that to your bank roll.”

“I’m riding a lucky streak. This _is_ Vegas.”

“Try explaining to security that you have an angel’s help at cards.” Sam was laughing as he turned the laptop on again, letting out a satisfied sound after a moment.

Dean turned to gape at him. “You think Cas would help me _cheat_? Sam, the guy’s an angel.”

Sam grinned at that. “Gotcha,” he murmured before pointing at the screen. “And got you.”

“Jerk,” Dean muttered, coming over to look over Sam’s shoulder. “It’s the right guy, right?”

“Looks like it, it’s a contact anyway.”

“Great. Reel ‘im in, Sammy.”

Sam nodded even as he typed, answer the questions the prospective bidder posed though keeping his wording vague. “Let’s see if this gets us the offer of a meet,” he said as he sent the answer.

“Doesn’t do us much good if it doesn’t,” Dean pointed out.

“That’s the problem with eccentric people; they don’t pay by the rules.”

Dean started to say something, then paused and eyed Sam sideways.  “So what did he say?”

“He had a few questions about the knife; I’m guessing he’ll want to test it before he bites.”

“Good, we just have to argue just hard enough to make him insist on viewing it at his place.”

“And then the real work will start.”

Dean nodded. “Hopefully we’ll find a nice, easy way to grab the Grail.”

“Of course there is the issue of just _who_ is going to grab it if the opportunity arises.”

“Apparently it has to be me,” Dean admitted, looking uneasy.

“Well, I really doubt it can be me, so, yeah, that means you.”

Dean had a horrible feeling he was going to be hearing about his purity for years to come. “Yeah, well, we have to get near it first.”

“Which means we wait until he answers. And don’t fall asleep!”

“You are getting to be no fun at all, little brother.”

“Boo friggin’ hoo. So how much did you win, anyway?”

“’Bout six grand,” Dean replied. “We’re good for while we’re here at least and probably the next trip too, depending on how long it takes.”

“One good thing at least,” Sam nodded.

“Gotta have a little faith, Sam,” Dean told him with a straight face, causing Sam to stare at him as if he had grown another head.

“ _You’re_ saying that?”

Dean started to laugh. “Damn, I should have had a camera ready to get a picture of your face.”

“Too slow as usual,” Sam shot back. “But seriously, did you mean that?”

Dean shrugged, but his eyes said yes, and Sam chuckled quietly. “I think we’re all glad to hear that.”

“I’m pretty sure Cas will be,” Dean admitted.

“I’m going to need industrial strength earplugs, aren’t I?”

Dean’s grin widened, and Sam groaned. “I really, really hate you.”

“You only think you do,” Dean laughed.

“Remember that when you’re getting ice shoved down your pants.”

“You do that, and I _will_ pepper your ass with rock salt!”

Sam pulled back, his hands raised in mock fright. “Oh no, not that, anything but that!”

Dean stuck his tongue out, and Sam groaned. “You are such a freak.”

“And you come from all the same genes that I do.”

“Yeah, but mine are better distilled.”

“I’m undistilled... pure Winchester,” Dean retorted.

“With as much beer as you drink, you’re anything but undistilled.”

Dean had to laugh. “Okay, so I’m hundred proof.”

“A hundred proof jerk,” Sam snickered.

“And which of us has a boyfriend or girlfriend?” Dean pointed out.

“You have an angel you grind on in your dreams,” Sam countered.

Dean’s eyes narrowed, and he took a chance. “Hey, Cas, mind breaking a mirror or something just to show I’m not crazy?”

Sam looked around as well, then chuckled. “Looks like what I’ve always thought is the truth.”

“And what might that be?”

“That you’re crazy!”

Dean gritted his teeth and reminded himself that Castiel _really_ answered to a higher power. “Ha ha.”

“I thought it was funny.”

“You would.” Dean tried to joke, but his expression showed his disappointment, and Sam immediately grew contrite.

“Dean, dude, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” Dean replied, rubbing a hand over his head. “And I know Castiel _can’t_ do a lot of stuff, but...” He sighed. “I just wish he could be around, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam nodded. “And I’m sorry you two can’t—that it isn’t normal. Maybe when this is all over, he can be.”

Dean laughed bitterly. “Dude, he’s an _angel_. And not a hot Roma whatshername angel, but a freaking Old Testament, warrior of the Lord angel.”

“Who apparently is interested in you and not just to throw you a bone for your part in saving me from going bad.”

“Point,” Dean admitted. “I guess I just keep waiting for things to go bad like they always do.”

“Yeah, well, if things go bad here, it’s pretty much the end of the world, so try to have a positive attitude, okay?”

Dean started to laugh. “I’m starting to think that having you and Cas meet isn’t such a good idea. You already sound a lot alike sometimes.”

“It must come from having to ride herd on you,” Sam snickered.

“You’re so funny. Not!”

“It only stings because it’s the truth.”

“Last I checked, it was the other way around,” Dean retorted.

“Two-way street.”

“That works,” Dean said after a moment, giving Sam a small smile, which his brother returned.

“Always has, always will.”

“This guy doesn’t have a chance against us.”

 ~*~

Sam looked up from his laptop several hours later, a grin curving his lips. “Got him.”

“Never doubted it,” Dean replied with a matching grin. “Did he ask for a meet?”

“Wants us to come to him.” Now Sam’s smile turned triumphant. “Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Now if we get really lucky, we’ll have the Grail in our hands by tomorrow night.”

“Then we just need to get it back to Bobby...”

“Or maybe you just need to drink from it,” Dean pointed out with a slight shrug.

“Maybe,” Sam replied before sighing. “Seems too easy though, you know?”

“I think we’re due some easy.”

Sam nodded at that before rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yeah, have to agree with you on that one. Of course, we _do_ have to get the Grail out of his house and still manage to keep the knife.”

“I know,” Dean sighed. “And I’m guessing that stealing it probably isn’t the best idea.”

“Doesn’t exactly strike me as pure.”

“Exactly. I guess we’d better hope this guy’s open to the idea of a holy war and is willing to lend us the thing. It worked for the Colt.”

“Yeah, but he was a hunter, this guy... I dunno.”

“What other choice do we have?” Dean pointed out. “I can’t think of anything else that doesn’t involve stealing it; can you?”

“Not really, and maybe this way will keep us on the side of the angels.”

“And I’m pretty inspired to stay on the angels’ good side.”

“Dude, I so do not need elaboration of that, okay?”

Dean laughed. “I’ll save that for Cas.”

Sam just shook his head and chuckled, knowing all too well that his brother would do just that.

~*~

“Mr. Masters?” Dean offered his hand to the man once he nodded, taking in the casual but expensive pants and button-down shirt. Colin Masters was tall, around Dean’s height or perhaps a little more, making him an inch or two shorter than Sam, and he was muscular without being bulky, his build reminding Dean somewhat of Castiel. “I’m Dean Remington.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” the other man replied, shaking Dean’s hand with a firm grip, then turning to Sam. “Which means you must be Sam.” He spoke with a cultured English accent that didn’t seem to be a put on.

“Good to meet you,” Sam answered, shaking the offered hand.

The grey-green eyes weighed the two men before Colin stepped back, gesturing them inside. “Likewise. Would you care for something to drink while we discuss our business?” After shutting the door and rearming the security system, he led the way to his den, aware of the way the two men were studying the house.

“Whatever you have is fine,” Sam offered, taking in their surroundings, noting the art on the walls and the sculptures displayed in various nooks and crannies.

“Lemonade then?” Colin indicated a tray containing a condensation-coated glass pitcher and glasses on a small table at one side of the room. “I find it refreshing in the afternoon.”

Dean eyed him. “Sure, sounds good.” He wondered if they would be offered cucumber sandwiches next.

Sam accepted the glass he was offered, and once they had all been served, Colin led them over to a trio of wing-backed chairs near an unlit fireplace that was flanked by tall windows.

“Please, sit.” After they did, Colin studied them seriously. “There is no record of the two of you before that posting was made.”

Dean returned the gaze blandly. “We’ve never had anything else we wanted to sell.”

“I meant _in general_ Mr. Remington, or should I say Mr. Winchester.”

Dean froze, staring at the other man while Sam leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “You seem to have us mixed up with someone else.”

Colin leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing over his lips. “You mean you aren’t Sam and Dean Winchester, the sons of John Winchester, who followed in your father’s footsteps as hunters?”

Sam’s eyes widened fractionally, and he glanced over at Dean. “I think you’re mistaken.”

“I really don’t think I am. So tell me what you really want here. I doubt you’re trying to sell me something.”

Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “Because you have something we need to use.”

His elbows resting on the padded leather arms of his chair, Colin steepled his fingers in front of him and regarded the brothers curiously. “I thought it might be something like that. So what exactly is it?”

After a quick, incredulous glance at Sam, Dean shrugged and went with it. “The Grail,” he replied bluntly.

“You think I have the Grail?” Colin asked, his eyebrows winging upward.

“A lot of people think you do,” Sam countered. “Which makes you a target, considering what’s going on right now.”

“And what exactly do you think is going on right now?” Colin replied, still watching them intently.

“Ever read Revelations?” Dean asked. “Lilith and her followers are breaking the Seals. Azazel had some kind of long-term plan that killing him didn’t end, and an angel steered us toward the Grail to stop them. Unless you think it would be fun to have Lucifer walking free?” he ended sardonically, part of him still having trouble believing this was real.

“That’s quite the interesting fairy tale, boys.”

“You’re a believer,” Sam interjected, cutting off his chuckle. “You surround yourself with celestial icons. If I had to guess, I’d say you saw something once, something that scared the hell out of you.”

“This stuff tends to do that,” Dean added. “And what’s happening now, it’s way worse than anything that’s come before. Angels and demons are fighting directly... and dying.”

“But humans die so much more easily,” a feminine voice suddenly interjected, and all three men’s heads whipped around to stare at...

“Ruby!” Dean snarled.

“Not really,” the demon in the body of the short girl with long, dark hair that Sam had been working with while Dean was in Hell answered with a malicious grin. “But then, I never was Ruby.” She chuckled as she saw Sam’s eyes widen. “When Lilith sends someone away, they don’t just run right back to their pets.”

“A demon...” Simon whispered, darting a glance at a small bronze statue on the marble mantle over the fireplace which was beginning to glow.

“I figured as much,” Dean said, drawing out the Colt and pointing it at her. “But you’ll die just as easily, bitch.”

Colin sat in his chair as if rooted, wide, horrified eyes taking this all in as Sam rose to his full height, Ruby’s knife held in his tightly clenched fist. “Who are you?”

“Focalor. Happy now?”

“I’ll be happy when you’re all back in Hell where you belong,” Dean snarled, and the demon laughed, her voice rich and husky.

“Just like you were?”

Dean flinched, his expression blanking for a moment. “Yeah, but I was there to save a life, and an _angel_ pulled me back out. I really doubt you can say the same,” he retorted.

“Did you ever stop to think that we _let_ you go?”

Sam’s jaw clenched, and his free hand fisted at his side as he fought the overwhelming desire to raise it and rip the demon from the body that housed it, to send it screaming back to Hell and lock it away there.

Dean’s eyes darted to his brother, and he chewed his lip for a second, but he didn’t say anything, consciously choosing to trust Sam.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “You forget, I know what demons can and can’t do, and I have the mark of the angel’s hand on me. Kind of hard to deny that.”

Nearly forgotten, Colin sat to the side, his eyes widening at what he was hearing.

Focalor’s nostrils widened as she sniffed, then she smiled nastily. “Are you sure you don’t mean the angel’s dick?”

“Naw, we’re taking it slow, something I’m sure you’d never understand.” Dean smirked at her; she’d hit a sore spot mentioning his time in Hell, but his relationship with Castiel was good. There was nothing there to hurt him.

“Neither does your brother.”

“Bitch,” Sam rasped.

“Kind of a given with a demon, Sam,” Dean pointed out, suddenly realizing that she was stalling for time, and that couldn’t be good for them.

“Ahh, but he knows me better than just any demon.”

“And you don’t know him at all.” Dean raised the Colt and fired.

The demon’s body hit the ground, and Sam dropped the knife a second later, fighting now to keep from throwing up.

“You—you killed her,” Colin said faintly.

“The demon’s been in her for at least five months. The host was almost certainly already dead, and I doubt Focalor was going to stand still for us to exorcise her.”

“If you hadn’t, I would have,” Sam said with a grimace.

“Good. That was one skanky bitch,” Dean observed before turning. “You okay there, Colin?”

“There was a demon in my home,” the older man said faintly.

“And now she’s gone. Really gone, that is. The only good demon’s a dead demon.”

Sam bent to pick up the knife and tucked it back into the sheath at the small of his back. “Demons are loose, Colin. They want to set Lucifer free, and we have to stop them.”

“Bloody hell!”

Dean laughed. “Welcome to our world. And we really do need the Grail. Assuming we manage to avert the apocalypse, we’ll bring it back to you.”

“Will it stop them from freeing Lucifer?”

“In a roundabout way,” Sam admitted, shooting Dean a sidelong glance.

After a long moment, Colin nodded slowly. “All right then. I would prefer not to be responsible for the apocalypse,” he admitted.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief at that. “Thank you.”

Colin pushed to his feet. “Please, follow me.” He led them to a locked room, which after he entered the code to open the door, turned out to be his own private, miniature museum.

Looking around, Dean raised his eyebrows. “Is there anything you _don’t_ have?”

“The real Dead Sea scrolls,” Colin replied as he paused in front of a sealed case holding a plain wooden cup.

“You’re better off without ‘em,” Dean advised him. “Huh, so it really is wooden. Makes sense.”

Sam watched as Colin unlocked the case, opened it, and stepped back, glancing over at them before he spoke. “I hope you have a way to touch it.”

Dean stepped forward, regarding the cup warily. “I’m reliably informed I can,” he said. He took a deep breath and reached into the case, shutting his eyes at the last second before he grabbed it. After a moment, he opened one eye and peered at his hand. “Am I still alive?”

“Your angel’s going to be pissed that you didn’t believe him,” Sam commented.

“I did! Mostly. I touched it, didn’t I?”

“Your... angel?” Colin asked faintly.

“Yeah, the one who pulled me out of Hell,” Dean replied absently. “He’s still around, and we’re sort of dating.”

Colin’s mouth worked, and he blinked several times.

“Don’t try to understand it,” Sam advised him. “You’ll just get a headache.”

“I see what you mean.”

Dean grinned over his shoulder. “Even for hunters, our lives are pretty interesting.”

Colin nodded at that. “Let me get you a carrying case.” He hurried off at that, leaving the brothers alone in the museum.

“So... I’m standing here holding the Holy Grail.”

“Without a coconut shell soundtrack,” Sam said, trying to laugh but finding himself fixated on the cup in Dean’s hands.

“Yeah, it seems like there should be more fanfare or something, doesn’t it?” Dean continued to stare at the smooth wood.

“I guess that’s the point—hide in plain sight.”

“It seems to work,” Dean agreed.

“I wonder how Masters got a hold of it,” Sam mused.

Dean looked around at all the exhibit cases. “He seems pretty good at getting whatever he wants.”

“Maybe it was meant for us to find.”

“I’m not thinking about it, or _I’m_ going to get a headache.”

“God’s will,” Colin said as he came back into the room, carrying a hinged box that he set on a heavy mahogany table and opened, revealing a padded interior.

“I seem to be running into that a lot lately,” Dean muttered as he placed the cup into the space that was clearly made for it.

“Kinda makes it hard to disbelieve, huh?”

Dean grumbled wordlessly, refusing to answer, and Colin took a step back. “You don’t believe in God, and you could still touch the Grail?”

Dean sighed. “I’m... considering the possibility.”

Colin rubbed the bridge of his nose and muttered something under his breath, and Sam offered a sympathetic smile. “Trust me, that’s one hundred percent better than he was.”

“Just when I think things can’t get any stranger.”

“Well, if you’re lucky, this is the extent of the weirdness you’ll see. Ready to go?” Sam asked, looking over at Dean.

“Yup. Thanks for the help, Colin. We’ll call you when we’re ready to bring it back.”

“Good luck, for all our sakes,” Colin offered as he walked them to the door.

~*~

“Bobby? We’re back,” Dean called as they let themselves in.

“Get in here!” Bobby yelled from the back of the house.

“Geez, what crawled up your ass?” Dean called as he and Sam made their through the house.

“Oh, I don’t know—just the fact that you two have brought the most holy relic aside from the nails used in the crucifixion into my house!”

“Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing?” Dean asked, setting the case down on the table next to Bobby.

“I think he means we’re going to have a problem if demon armies come here to try and get it,” Sam observed wryly.

“Ah. Well, hopefully that’s not going to happen. It seems pretty good at hiding itself.” Dean looked over at Bobby. “So, do we need anything else?”

“Just water, the Grail and Sam. Don’t let it touch him though.”

“I think we’ll remember that,” Sam commented as he sat in one of the ladder-backed chairs.

“Tilt your head back, and I’ll pour,” Dean instructed, opening a bottle of water and emptying half of it into the Grail.

“Try not to drown him,” Bobby said wryly, the comment making Sam snicker, though the sound was tight with nerves. He leaned against the chair back and tipped his head back, taking a deep breath as Dean raised the Grail over his face.

“Okay, starting to pour,” Dean warned, tipping the cup until a trickle of water ran out and into Sam’s mouth.

Nothing happened until Sam swallowed the mouthful, then his whole body stiffened in a spasm of pain. His hands clamped onto the seat of the chair, and a strangled scream emerged from his throat. His eyes rolled back in his head, a yellowish film covering them and burning away.

Dean hovered over him, wanting to help but knowing that there was nothing he could do. He thought about tossing some of the water in Sam’s face, but he wasn’t sure if that would help. Then again, he’d had water tossed in his face when he came back...

Sam’s next cry was weaker, and he slid off the chair onto the floor, his breathing harsh and labored as Bobby moved up to join Dean, both of them crouching down at Sam’s side.

Dean carefully set the Grail on a table before grasping Sam’s arm. “You’re going to be okay, Sam.”

Sam swallowed harshly and closed his eyes. “Well, it definitely is doing something.”

Dean’s fingers tightened. “Just hang in there.”

A shadow fell across the three of them, and Bobby scrambled back, reaching for his shotgun.

“Robert, do not make me put you to sleep again,” Castiel said mildly as he crouched down beside Sam, resting his hand on his shoulder, his eyes flicking to meet Dean’s before lowering to study Sam’s expression. “The pain will fade.”

“Ha, told you he was real!” Dean exclaimed, and Sam managed a pained laugh.

“I never thought he wasn’t.”

“At least now I won’t have to worry about you waking me up.”

“Dude, don’t go there now, okay?” Sam begged, wincing again as his muscles knotted.

“Naw, you’re pretty much a mood breaker,” Dean joked, but his green eyes were dark with worry. “How long is this going to take?” he asked Castiel.

“Several hours,” the angel answered seriously. “Azazel’s blood has been in him almost since his birth; burning it out will take time.”

“Jesus.” Dean felt helpless, but there was nothing he could do, no way to protect his brother from this.

“Cold,” Sam whispered, and Bobby vanished, to return carrying a knitted afghan and a pillow. Moving carefully around Castiel, he draped the afghan over Sam, handing Dean the pillow to slide under his head.

Once that was done, Dean looked over at Castiel. “Can you put him to sleep so he doesn’t have to suffer?”

“He must suffer.” Castiel sounded sorrowful as he spoke, and he shifted his hand to Sam’s bare flesh, a move that had a small amount of Sam’s tension leaving him.

Dean gritted his teeth audibly, but he managed to refrain from commenting, instead simply holding Sam’s hand, giving him something to hang on to.

“No pain, no gain,” Sam said weakly in between gasps for breath.

“I’ll remind you of that, you know,” Dean tried to tease.

“Doesn’t surprise me.”

“You think you know me so well.”

“Better than anyone,” Sam murmured.

“Whatever you say, Sammy, whatever you say.”

“I’ll remind _you_ of that.”

“I’ll deny it.”

“You have an angel as a witness,” Bobby pointed out, causing Castiel to turn his head in his direction.

“You are right, Robert.”

“Hey, quit ganging up on me!”

“Should be used to it by now,” Sam murmured.

“Great,” Dean pretended to grumble. “Good thing I’ll have ways to distract at least one of you.”

“Something that should make the rest of us run,” Bobby commented as he slowly straightened up. “Do yah all want some coffee or anything?” he asked, darting a quick glance in Castiel’s direction.

“I could use a beer,” Dean said.

“Water will be fine.” Seeing the quick glance Bobby darted at the Grail, Castiel shook his head. “Water from your tap would be adequate.”

Dean snickered. “You haven’t tasted the water around here.”

“If that’s what he wants, he can have it,” Bobby said gruffly.

“Bobby, he’s going to be around a lot; you really need to get used to him.”

“I would offer to get the drinks myself, but the lack of my presence could prove disturbing to Samuel.”

“That’s okay, I’ll get ‘em,” Bobby said hastily, retreating to the kitchen.

“Thanks,” Dean said quietly, looking across Sam at Castiel, who tilted his head to the side, returning his gaze inquisitively.

“For helping him,” Dean elaborated.

“It was your faith that saved him,” Castiel said quietly.

“I have to thank you for that too then.”

Sam’s eyes cracked open as he watched the interplay between Dean and Castiel. “You made Dean believe in God; that means you deserve a medal.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be conserving your strength?” Dean grumbled. “So be quiet.”

“Humor gives me something else to think about.”

“Lucky me.”

“You are both lucky.”

“Yeah, we really are,” Dean admitted, still squeezing his brother’s fingers.

Bobby returned, handing Dean a beer and Castiel a bottle of water, retaining the last beer for himself. “Got one for you too, Sam, once yer feeling better.”

“Thanks,” Sam replied shakily, looking up at them. “I just wanna say that this really sucks.”

“You have dealt the other side a serious blow, both in the locking of two Seals and in their loss of Focalor.”

“No offense, but I’m a lot happier at saving my brother,” Dean said.

Sam struggled to sit up at that, his eyes widening both at what he had just heard and at the pain as he moved. “Wait, did I just hear you say I was a Seal?”

“You did,” Castiel said, his voice low and grave. “One of the unwritten.”

At that, Dean’s eyes widened as well. “Whoa! Dude, I thought you were talking about the Grail!”

“The Grail was known; your brother was not. We can.... feel when a Seal has been won or lost.”

Dean eyed Sam. “Okay, that’s seriously freaky.” He turned back to Castiel, asking, “So does this mean Sam doesn’t have the creepy demon powers anymore?”

“Once the Grail has burned Azazel’s blood from him, he will be human, no more, no less.”

“That’s a relief,” Sam breathed, slumping back to the floor, his mouth twisting into a grimace as he moved.

“You ain’t kiddin’,” Dean agreed emphatically, watching Sam worriedly. “Would painkillers help at all?” he asked Castiel, pretty sure that this was beyond Tylenol, but it was all he could think of to help.

The angel shook his head silently, and they all settled back to wait out what, in essence, was a miracle.

“It looks like it’s not as bad,” Dean observed nearly two hours later, hoping for Sam’s sake that it wasn’t just wishful thinking on his part.

“Yeah, it’s a little better, doesn’t feel like it’s gnawing my guts out any more.” Sam managed a pained smile at the last, and Dean winced in empathy.

“Do you want some water?” he offered, standing up to stretch.

“Yeah, I’ll give it a try.”

Beside Sam, Castiel shifted slightly in his crouched position, his hand never leaving Sam’s arm.

Dean went into the kitchen and brought back two bottles of water, one for Sam and one for Castiel. After handing them over, he moved behind the angel and sat down on the floor.

“Lean on me, Cas,” he invited. “Your back and legs have got to be killing you.”

Castiel stayed where he was for a moment, then slowly moved, leaning against Dean’s side without his hand losing touch with Sam’s arm. “Thank you,” he murmured as Sam took a drink from his bottle of water, coughing when his position caused him to choke.

Bobby moved to raise Sam’s head, supporting him so he could clear his airway and then finally drink some water. “Careful there.”

“Thank you,” Dean murmured to Castiel, one hand resting on the angel’s hip.

“You were the one who saved him.”

“But you’re helping him,” Dean replied.

“It is allowed.”

“Well, I say thanks too,” Sam rasped.

“See, he’s pretty _and_ useful,” Dean said, grinning.

“Hopefully we won’t need this use again.”

“No, once was more than enough,” Dean agreed fervently, and Castiel nodded and leaned a little more heavily against Dean’s side, his eyes closing as his head bowed. Dean shifted his arm around Castiel, offering him more support and holding him close at the same time, glad of this time together even if he would have preferred that Sam’s pain not be the cause of it.

Several more hours passed, and Sam finally slipped into a fitful sleep. Once he did, Castiel let out a long breath. “The worst is past,” he said quietly.

Dean and Bobby both sighed with relief, and Bobby got to his feet. “In that case, I’ll leave you boys to it. These old bones need a bed.”

“Good night, Robert, the Lord will watch over you,” Castiel said, turning his unblinking gaze on the bearded man.

“Uh, right.” Looking unnerved, Bobby beat a hasty retreat.

“You really need to quit freaking him out,” Dean snickered. “And sorry, but the sofa’s as good as it gets. Bobby doesn’t have any extra beds in this place.”

“You should rest as well; I will watch over your brother.”

Dean snorted. “You’ve gotta be kidding. You’re actually here, physically here, and you think I’m going to _sleep_?”

“You should,” Castiel replied, “you have not since you found the Grail.”

“I’d rather spend the time with you,” Dean admitted. “I can sleep later, but you’ll probably be gone again later.”

Castiel nodded at that, his expression grave as he looked back at Dean. “There is work to do.”

“I know. I’m just not wasting the time we do have sleeping.”

“I could make you sleep,” Castiel murmured.

“I don’t want to lose the time with you,” Dean protested. “We could just talk.”

“What do you wish to talk about?”

“You. What do you like to do? _Do_ you do anything when you’re not down here?”

“Not anything as you would know it.” Sam shifted in his sleep, and Castiel moved as well to keep his hand on the young man’s arm.

“Sounds kinda dull,” Dean observed, following the movement so that Castiel was still leaning against him.

“It is anything but.” The angel’s eyes grew unfocused, and he appeared lost in thought. “Just beyond mortal experience.”

Dean smiled slightly. “There are a few mortal experiences you haven’t tried yet.”

“Once this is over... Though I do not know what will happen. I have no right to this body; staying in it would make me no better than the demons we fight.”

A slight flinch was Dean’s initial response to the angel’s comment. “No, I know. And maybe without the vessel, you won’t be interested in me anymore either.”

Castiel’s free hand flashed out and closed over Dean’s wrist. “No, believe me when I say that, Dean.”

Green eyes rose to meet blue, searching the depths. “I want to... no, I _do_ believe you. But I keep thinking this is too good to be true,” Dean finished wryly.

“Good things can happen to you,” Castiel said seriously.

Dean shrugged, but his half laugh held a tinge of bitterness. “You’re here, and so am I, so I guess I have to believe you.”

Castiel sighed at that, and the hand on Dean’s thigh tightened momentarily.

“I’m working on it,” Dean said softly, brushing a kiss over Castiel’s lips.

“And I’m pleased that is the case,” Castiel answered, his mouth sliding over Dean’s as he spoke as he hadn’t pulled back. Dean deepened the kiss, a soft sound of pleasure escaping him as Castiel opened to him, his tongue sliding into the angel’s mouth and exploring him.

Castiel’s hand moved as he wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist, his fingers skating over the warm flesh beneath Dean’s shirts. If he felt any discomfort at the way he was twisted half around, he didn’t show it, remaining perfectly balanced between Dean and Sam, in contact with both of them.

Dean finally drew back slightly, smiling as he raised a hand to cup Castiel’s cheek. “Next time we do this, it would be better without my brother involved,” he said with a faint chuckle.

Castiel pressed his lips together and was silent for a moment, his expression turning conflicted before settling into one of resolve. “I must remind you that there are four of us here and that for us to do more than we have would constitute an infringement on he who offered himself as my host.”

Dean looked blank for a moment as he tried to untangle that, then pulled a face as he understood what Castiel meant. “Oh hell, I’ve been kissing some guy I don’t know every time I kiss you?”

“Not when it is in your dreams, and it is not a thing that distresses him; I simply... do not wish to complicate things more than they are.”

“Christ, I’m going to need a shrink before this is all over.”

“A shrink? You want to be smaller?”

Dean stared, then burst into laughter. “On second thought, no, I won’t. You’re a lot better.”

“Than being smaller?” Castiel’s brow furrowed deeply in consternation.

“Than seeing a psychiatrist,” Dean explained with a grin.

“And that is what you mean by—ahh.”

“And the light dawns. It’s interesting running into stuff you don’t know.”

Castiel sighed at that, his expression for a moment far-away. “I try not to... intrude on my vessel’s thoughts and memories, and my own do not include that term.”

“Yeah, it’s probably a little more recent than Judea,” Dean agreed, still looking amused.

“Just somewhat,” the angel answered with a ghost of a smile as he eased back away from Dean, his fingers trailing over Dean’s back before dropping away.

“Hey, just ‘cause we can’t do everything doesn’t mean I can’t at least hold you,” Dean protested.

“Or I you.”

“You’re the one letting go.”

“You tempt me,” Castiel admitted even as he caught Dean’s hand to pull him closer.

“Not all temptation’s bad,” Dean pointed out, letting Cas move him where he wanted him, finally ending up with his head pillowed on the angel’s thigh and Castiel’s hand on his chest, splayed out over his heart, feeling the beat.

“No, though it must all be treated with caution.”

“I won’t push for anything you’re not comfortable with,” Dean promised.

“I’m comfortable here, very comfortable.”

“I’m glad. I am too,” Dean told him. Castiel’s lips curved at that, and he rubbed his thumb over the soft weave of Dean’s t-shirt, allowing the silence to settle around them as the night changed to early morning.

They were still like that when Sam stirred, and Dean finally sat up to peer at his brother.

“Sam? Are you feeling okay now?”

“If okay includes feeling like I was gutted and stuffed back together, then, yeah,” the younger man replied with a groan, looking over at Dean and Castiel when the angel sat back, letting his hand fall from Sam’s arm.

“But alive and no more demon blood,” Dean said exultantly, earning a weak smile from Sam.

“That’s a big plus.”

“At least now I don’t need to worry about angels smiting you.”

Sam glanced back at Castiel at that, and the angel in question nodded. “Destroying the demon blood in you has removed that path to damnation.”

“Good, no smiting my brother,” Dean said, leaning back against Castiel, who unconsciously wrapped an arm around his waist.

Sam’s eyebrows rose, but he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to tempt fate when he’d just gotten a reprieve.

Dean tilted his head back to peer up at Castiel. “So this means you won’t vanish just because Sam arrives anymore, right?”

“I’m here, am I not?”

“Please tell me that you two aren’t going to be keeping me up all night,” Sam groaned, glancing toward the kitchen door when he heard Bobby coming down the stairs.

“Sadly, no,” Dean grumbled. “We realized we kind of have a chaperone.”

“You’re saying you’re being considerate of me?” Sam goggled.

Dean rolled his eyes. “The original inhabitant and current copilot of the body he’s in, Sam.”

“Do I even want to know?” Bobby groaned as he walked into the kitchen.

“I’m not sure I do,” Sam told him. “Coffee!”

“Well, since no one put any on, there ain’t any.” Bobby leveled a glower in Dean’s direction.

“We were waiting for Sam to wake up,” Dean protested.

“Uh huh...” Bobby briefly rested a hand on each of the Winchesters’ shoulders as he headed toward the percolator.

“It is the truth,” Castiel said quietly.

“And you know angels don’t lie,” Dean added smugly, causing Sam to groan.

“There’s going to be no living with him.” He slowly got to his feet, bracing himself on one of the chairs as he got his balance.

“Unless you’re an angel.” Dean smirked at him.

Sam rolled his eyes and hobbled over to help Bobby with the coffee.

Dean lay back down and rolled to his back, looking up at Castiel. “Can you hang around for a while this time?”

“I will try,” Castiel answered, turning his gaze back to Dean, his expression somber. “I cannot say if I will be needed.”

“Just stay as long as you can.” Dean caught one of Castiel’s hands in his, interlacing their fingers. “I can understand why my mother wanted to get out of this life.”

“You cannot change the past, Dean.”

“No, but maybe the future doesn’t have to be what I always thought it would.”

“What did you think it would be?”

“Alone, short.” Dean shrugged. “Most hunters don’t live to die of old age.”

Castiel closed his fingers around Dean’s, his grip strong and warm. “Not alone, never alone,” he said quietly.

Dean’s lips curved in a smile. “I’m glad you were the one sent after me.”

“So am I.” The admission was quiet but heartfelt.

“I can guarantee this situation would never have arisen with Uriel,” Dean said with a snicker.

From across the room, Sam gagged, and Castiel smiled slightly. “No, he is even less ‘fluffy wings’ than I.”

“And not hot at all,” Dean pointed out.

“That is the vessel and not I.”

“True, but I did notice the outside before I got to know you,” Dean replied. “It’s going to be weird when you look different,” he admitted, “but I’ll get used to it.”

Castiel cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“I’m guessing you’re not going to be a permanent resident in that guy’s body,” Dean explained. “But I hope that won’t mean you leave.”

“If I am not in a vessel, I will not be able to speak with you.” Castiel’s thumb rubbed over the back of Dean’s hand as he spoke.

“We’ll figure something out. Maybe another vessel... I don’t know. This is kind of new to me.”

“As it is to me.”

“Coffee’s ready,” Sam called from over by the counter where he and Bobby had been making themselves unobtrusive.

“You’re a lifesaver, bro,” Dean told him, getting up and pulling Cas to his feet by the hand.

~*~

“This looks like something straight out of some medieval painting of Hell,” Dean muttered, looking around in dismay. Neither side seemed to want to be bothered by tripping over humans once battle was joined, so they were deep in the Syrian Desert in an area that had seen similar battles in Biblical times.

The sinking sun cast long shadows over the desert, each small outcropping turned into monstrous gash in the fading light, the blood-red sunset only contributing to the resemblance to some hellish landscape.

“If we don’t stop Lilith, all this is going to be Hell,” Sam said quietly from where he stood beside Dean. Turning to reply to him, Dean remained silent as his gaze was caught by the rows of angels spreading out across the barren landscape, their swords still sheathed but ready to be drawn at the first sight of their enemies.

“Did you ever expect to have a front-row seat at Armageddon, Sammy?”

Sam shook his head and rubbed at the back of his neck. “No, can’t say I’ve ever wanted to, either. Just _why_ are we here again?”

Dean shrugged. “Because we were kidnapped by an angel who hasn’t seen fit to share his reasons with us. I’d ask, but the guy he’s talking to right now is the one who hates me, so I thought it might be a better idea to wait.”

“Yeah, well, that’s been—Huh? You mean that’s Shemale?” Sam asked, leaning forward to try and get a better look.

“Yup. Oh, and he seems fairly up on current events, so it’s probably not a good idea to call him that where he can hear it,” Dean advised in a mutter, watching the angels. “I’m pretty sure Cas could save us, but let’s try not to have the angels smiting us instead of the demons.”

“Dude, not arguing with you here,” Sam murmured, watching the blond angel gesture angrily at Castiel. “And I thought they weren’t supposed to have much in the way of emotions; I’m sure as hell seeing a lot of them down there.”

“Yeah, that dude’s even angrier than Uriel,” Dean agreed. “And it’s because he cared about his partner. As far as I can tell, they feel; they just don’t know that they feel or don’t admit it.”

“I think Cas knows he feels,” Sam commented wryly. “I’m just not thinking about what he wants to feel.”

Dean gave him a quick grin. “I think about that whenever I can. Which unfortunately isn’t on the site of the apocalypse,” he added, looking around again.

“I still don’t get why _we_ need to be here though. I mean, what can we do other than get in the way?”

Dean looked away, pressing his lips together as if to keep the words in. After a moment, he raised his eyes again to meet Sam’s now suspicious gaze. “A while ago,” he hesitated before continuing, “I found out that I was the first Seal. When I said yes, that broke the first Seal. And somehow that means I’m the only one who can stop this, though I have no frickin’ idea how.”

Sam goggled at him at that, his mouth falling open. “You—Why didn’t you tell me?” he finally managed to stammer.

Dean shrugged uncomfortably. “’Cause it wouldn’t have changed anything, and it really wasn’t anything I wanted to think about, Sammy.”

Sam was silent for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I got it, so you stop this thing, and I’ll see what I can do to help.”

“No pressure, right?” Dean asked wryly, looking over his shoulder to see that Shemael had moved away and Castiel was watching them.

“Nothing new, is it?”

“No, not at all.” Dean took a step toward Castiel, his eyes on the angel’s.

“It will be soon. I will do my best to stay near both of you.”

“I wish I knew what I have to do,” Dean muttered, knowing that no one had an answer for him. “Try to be careful, Cas. I’ve kind of gotten used to having you around.”

“Be worried for yourselves, Dean. We will do our best to shield you, but demons are deceitful; they will do their best to destroy you both.”

“Nothing new about that,” Dean pointed out with a shrug. “I just hope I figure out what I’m supposed to do here before it’s too late.”

“You aren’t the only one,” Sam muttered as Castiel rested his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“You will know when the time is right.”

“I hope I live up to your confidence,” Dean said, leaning slightly toward Castiel.

“You will, both of you will.” The angel reached up and touched the side of Dean’s face, his eyes locked on Dean’s gaze.

Dean’s head tilted to press his cheek into Castiel’s palm, his own hands moving to rest on the angel’s hips. “You be careful out there. We have unfinished business, you and I.”

“Once this is over, Dean,” Castiel promised, stepping back from him, his fingers trailing over Dean’s cheek before losing contact altogether. “I will see you both when this matter is concluded.”

“We’ll be here... hopefully having done more than stand around looking stupid,” Dean added in a mutter.

Sam opened his mouth to answer, but whatever he had been about to say died away as a dark cloud roiled out of the west, settling across the valley from the angels, then dissipating, leaving a horde of humans possessed by demons in its wake.

“Oh crap,” Dean muttered, moving closer to Sam. “Great, aside from the knife, we have nothing to fight the demons with but our sparkling personalities and bad language. They must be quaking in their boots.”

“There’s always prayer,” Sam murmured, watching the demons close on the angels, the sides coming together with a howling scream that made the hair on his arms stand on end.

Staring out at the horrific scene, Dean barely restrained a shudder. “Do you really think I’m not already praying as hard as I can? I’d really like to see the world not end today. Oh, and the three of us getting out of this alive would be nice too.”

“Just making sure.” Sam winced as bodies fell, demonic and angelic weapons wiping out their counterparts with violent efficiency. He whispered nearly silent pleas for good to triumph, not noticing a single feminine form breaking away from the battle to advance on them.

“Oh look, the Winchester boys, what a pretty picture—and yummy too, I’ll bet,” a husky voice purred.

Both heads whipped to the side to focus on a pretty blond woman in her twenties, and Dean frowned in confusion. “Meg?” he guessed.

“That’s one strike; two more and someone loses a limb.”

“Who then...” Sam’s expression hardened and he stared at the woman, his jaw clenched in hatred. “Lilith.”

“Well, at least it’ll be easier to kill you now, bitch. The cute little kid might have made us pause for a second,” Dean snarled.

“Aww, you’re making the dental hygienist I’m wearing cry—and how do you expect to stop me?” Lilith chuckled. “Sammy might have had a chance if he hadn’t drunk the Kool-Aid your little angel butt boy was offering, but now...” She flicked her fingers at them, sending the brothers tumbling backward.

“Keep talkin’, bitch. I’m going to stop you, and you know it,” Dean growled as he pushed to his feet, pausing just long enough to glance to the side and seeing Sam getting up as well. “You’re goin’ down.”

“Hard,” Sam added furiously, grabbing the knife from Dean.

“Sammy, no! Don’t, it’s my job,” Dean exclaimed, not wanting to lose by default.

“Stopping Lucifer from getting out is your job; killing this bitch is mine,” Sam rasped as he launched himself at Lilith, who laughed helplessly.

“Sam, no. It’s too easy. Why isn’t she doing anything?” Dean lunged at Sam, knocking him away from the demon, who glared at him.

“Who cares!” Sam panted, struggling to free himself while Lilith watched, now looking amused.

“Would you like some help?” she asked sweetly.

“No!” another voice thundered, an angel appearing off to the side, flaming sword in hand.

“Shemale? Uh, Shemael, I mean,” Dean said hastily, wincing at the look the angel bestowed on him. “Aren’t we supposed to be killing the bad guys?”

“Killing her is the final Seal,” the angel replied, clearly wanting to engage the eldest demon in battle but prevented by the knowledge of what was at stake.

“Well, what the fuck are we supposed to do, stand here and make faces at her?!

“Damnit, Sam, stay still; you heard what he said.”

“Then let’s send her back to Hell,” Sam responded, still trying to free himself from Dean’s hold.

“Please, go ahead and try,” Lilith laughed, though there was a hard edge to the sound before she launched herself at the brothers, only to be intercepted by Shemael.

As the angel and demon engaged in battle, Dean grabbed a bible out of his pocket. “Exorcism, Sammy. We’ve gotta send her skanky ass back where she came from. Once Lilith is banished from this plane, the final Seal is safe. But we need to send her back for keeps, not just throw her out of this body.”

“A plain exorcism isn’t going to do that,” Sam rasped, watching the dark and light forms engage and break apart.

“No shit! So what the he—heck do we do? I’ve gotta stop her, and I’m all out of super-demon be gone!”

“ _We_ have to stop her,” Sam snapped, wincing as Lilith slammed Shemael to the ground, the angel rolling away from a strike that would certainly have destroyed him.

“I’m open to suggestions,” Dean growled, watching the fight. He saw Shemael knocked aside by one blow, reeling to try to regain his balance, and Lilith moving in for the kill, and he yelled a warning, throwing himself between the two in an attempt to block her strike.

“Dean!” Sam shouted as Lilith’s smoky blade sank into his brother’s chest. Lilith’s back arched and she screamed as lighting forked down from the heavens to spear into her, causing her body to spasm before her mouth opened and dark smoke roiled from it. The smoke roiled upward, only to be sucked downward into a pit that opened next to Dean’s bleeding body.

Sam was still scrabbling across the intervening space to get to his brother when Castiel appeared next to Dean, catching him before he even hit the ground. “You are safe, Dean,” he whispered, laying Dean’s body on the ground and resting his hand over the gaping wound in his chest.

“Cas?” Sam asked brokenly, falling to his knees beside the pair.

“Stay back, Samuel,” the angel whispered, raising sorrowful blue eyes to meet Sam’s before closing them and lowering his head.

“Move back, Samuel.” A hand closed on Sam’s arm, and Shemael tugged, his touch strangely gentle.

“He can’t die, not again,” Sam said brokenly, looking up at angel with tears in his eyes. “I can’t do this without him.”

“He will not die,” Shemael whispered as a soft glow surrounded Castiel and Dean, “my brother will not allow it.”

“He’s not God; he doesn’t get to make that choice. God, was this how Dean was supposed to prevent the Seal from breaking, by sacrificing himself? I hate your God!”

“Our Father loves you though,” Shemael said roughly as he kept a hold of Sam’s arms. “Do not interfere, Samuel, what Castiel does, he does of his own free will.”

“Dean wouldn’t want him to sacrifice himself!”

“He will find glory in our Father,” the angel insisted as the glow brightened around the pair.

“We humans don’t find a lot of comfort in that,” Sam said, his eyes never moving from Dean and Castiel. “This life is all we know, and this is where we seek happiness. He sacrificed himself for _you_ , because he felt guilty for taking your love from you.”

“He sacrificed himself for that reason, but by doing so, he has saved your world.” The glow intensified to an almost painful level before snuffing out, leaving Dean gasping for breath on the ground with Castiel slumped beside him.

“Dean!” Ignoring the angel at his side, Sam flung himself to his knees next to his brother, grabbing his hand. “You’re alive.”

“Great grasp of the obvious there, Sammy,” Dean said in a weak tone, trying to squeeze his hand.

“Well, you were dead less than five minutes ago!”

“I was?” Dean turned his head to look at Cas, one eyebrow rising in question only to receive a confused, woozy look in response.

“Dean, Cas saved you, he–“

“Castiel’s gone.” The voice was the angel’s, but the inflection was nowhere near to his.

“What?” Dean’s head whipped around so he could focus on the man at his side. “Cas? Castiel!”

“He’s gone,” the other man repeated, and Shemael’s nod confirmed the statement. “He—he couldn’t stay any longer; he was stretched too thin.”

“Cas!” Dean’s cry was a wail of desolation, and Sam flinched from his brother’s pain as the man who had housed the angel Dean loved looked up at him.

“He has returned to God,” the man whispered, looking as if he was worried that Dean would hit him.

Dean stared at him and then turned away, curling in on himself. “Cas,” he whispered brokenly, unable to look at the body that no longer housed the spirit he loved.

“He needed to save you,” the other man whispered, reaching out to rest a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Who are you?” Sam asked.

“Jimmy Novack.”

“Not Cas,” Dean said at the same time, drawing away from the man’s hand. “Why didn’t he let me die?”

“Because your death broke the cycle, it preserved the last Seal from falling,” Shemael explained. “Castiel valued your existence over his own; will you throw that gift away?” the last was offered as a challenge.

“And I valued his over mine,” Dean snapped, glaring at the angel. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Live, or would you throw his gift away?”

“Dean,” Sam said, looking out over the sands and seeing nothing. “It’s over; they’re gone.”

Looking at his brother, Dean bit back what he wanted to say, instead pushing to his feet wearily. “Then I guess it’s time to let Bobby know what happened and get back on the road to deal with whatever comes up next,” he said, his shoulders slumped.

“I think that would be getting him home,” Sam said, looking in Jimmy’s direction. “If someone would get us out of here.”

“I will return you to from whence you came,” Shemael stated.

“Great, let’s do it,” Dean said, standing at Sam’s side. “I’ve seen enough of this place.”

“Dean...” Sam began before sighing.

“He didn’t want to leave you,” Jimmy said as he stood, moving slowly as if getting used to his body again.

Dean looked at him. “I’m sure that’ll help eventually.”

“I gave up my family to let him in—“ the other man began before biting off his tirade with a snap. “He wouldn’t want you to stop living.”

Dean shrugged. “I lived before him; I’ll live after him.”

Sam reached out, tightening his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Shemael, can you get us out of here?”

~*~

The lights of Las Vegas painted the desert night in a rainbow of colors though Sam’s eyes were more on his brother than the colors. “So, where to now?” he asked, hoping to improve Dean’s mood.

Dean shrugged indifferently. “Wherever you want. Now that we’ve returned the Grail, our time is our own. I think I may just hit the sack. It’s been a long few months, and I could use some sleep.”

“You sure? I heard there was a good buffet downstairs...” Sam cajoled.

Realizing that Sam was making the effort for his sake, Dean forced himself to grin. “Hey, if there’s food, I’m there.”

“All you can eat too,” Sam promised, clapping Dean on the shoulder as they headed toward the door to their room and out into the hall toward the elevator.

“Sounds great,” Dean told him, his step hitching briefly as he remembered how much he’d looked forward to showing Castiel the city if they ever made it back here.

Sam’s fingers tightened on his shoulder as they headed downstairs and into the lavish buffet to be seated near the open air area that overlooked the casino pit.

“So does this mean you’re actually going to relax and have some fun this trip, Sammy?” Dean said, trying for his usual joking tone.

“If I do, will you?”

“I... I’m trying here, Sam. This is all pretty messed up.”

“I get it, I really do,” Sam nodded. “You miss him, and it sucks.”

“Yeah, I guess you would.” Dean offered Sam a wry smile before reaching for his water glass. “But he’s not dead; he’s just... gone.”

“Yeah, he is, but you know he’s there somewhere, and... I won’t lecture on it.”

“Just give me a while,” Dean said quietly. “I just need to wrap my head around it.”

“All the time you need, dude, at least we’ve got it now.”

“I wonder if we’ll get our own gospel,” Dean mused, snickering.

“The Word according to the Winchesters? Your parts will have to be edited,” Sam chuckled.

“You want to eliminate my gems of wisdom?”

“Just edit them down.”

“Philistine.”

“Dean! Kids read the Bible!” Sam laughed.

“Not the unedited version, they don’t.”

“So you want Bobby to read the unedited words?”

“Uh, no!” Dean shuddered at the thought. “Okay, point.”

“I’m sure you can be inspirational and PG-rated as well.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

“Hey, go ahead; I just want to have a camera when Bobby reads it!”

“Uh, no.” Dean’s grin was more real that time.

Sam grinned back at him at that. “See? I knew you were smart. C’mon, time to eat.”

“Yeah, food’d be good,” Dean agreed, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. “So let’s see what they’ve got.”

“Just remember to leave some food for the rest of the guests,” Sam laughed as he joined him, both of them eating well for the first time in weeks.

Once neither of them could eat another bite, Dean leaned back in his chair and groaned happily. “Okay, that was a good idea. Maybe tomorrow we can hit the casinos too.”

“Sounds good—and then we can see if we can score some tickets for Celine Dion,” Sam commented, his face remarkably straight.

“Dude! Are you trying to make me puke?”

“No way because you’d manage to get it on me!” Sam laughed as they headed back toward the elevators.

“You deserve it for that.”

“So we’ll find something else to see.”

“Damn right. Something with showgirls.”

The elevator arrived even as Sam shook his head. “Somehow I knew it was going to include that.”

“There’s hope for you yet.” Dean grinned, slinging an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Maybe we’ll find one for you too.”

“Sequins and feathers make me itch.”

“I really don’t want to know how you know that.”

Sam smiled in memory. “And you aren’t going to find out.”

“Why do I think that’s best for both of us?” Dean asked wryly.

The elevator arrived at their floor as Sam nodded, and they started down the hall toward their room. Dean stopped abruptly, a hand on Sam’s arm halting him as well.

“The door’s open.”

Sam cursed under his breath in response. “You have _got_ to be kidding me!” The majority of their weapons were locked in the Impala because of the metal detectors in the hotels.

“So much for a vacation,” Dean grumbled. “Okay, we have to go in, right?”

“You go left, I’ll go right? And you do realize that if this is the maid, we’re screwed.”

“Only if she’s hot.” Dean moved to one side of the door, waiting for Sam’s nod before shoving it open and bursting into the room. The figure standing by the windows didn’t react other than to turn and look at them even as Bobby stepped forward to catch Dean’s arm before he could reach for a weapon.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said calmly.

Dean froze, his eyes widening as he stared at the strange but still familiar man. “Cas?” he asked hesitantly, completely ignoring Bobby aside from retrieving his arm.

Sam’s jaw dropped as he looked from the stranger to his brother, trying to reconcile the dark-haired man dressed in khakis and a collared shirt with the angel as they had known him.

“I’m sorry if my entrance caused you distress.”

“Is that really you?” Dean asked, taking a step closer, his eyes never leaving the man’s face. The shape was similar, though both hair and eyes were darker now, but none of that mattered, because he could _feel_ Castiel.

“I have... chosen,” the other man said quietly.

“Chosen?” Sam asked, his voice sounding loud to his own ears.

“Chosen what?” Dean asked, close enough to touch Castiel now.

“Humanity.” Blue eyes closed and opened again. “You.”

After a moment of frozen stillness, Dean pulled Castiel into his arms, hugging him tightly, his eyes closed as he absorbed the still familiar weight of him, the former angel standing stiffly for a moment before releasing a sigh and wrapping his arms around Dean as well, relaxing into the embrace.

“I should be telling you not to do this, but I can’t,” Dean whispered. “I want you here; I missed you so much.”

“It is too late; the choice has been made, and I would not unmake it.”

“I’ll just give you guys some privacy,” Sam murmured, starting to back out of the room, Bobby following him.

“I don’t know that I’m worth it, but I’m glad you did,” Dean said quietly, not even noticing Sam and Bobby’s departure.

“You still don’t have faith in yourself,” Castiel murmured, “but I do.”

“Good thing I’ve got you around then.”

“Eventually I will see it happen.”

“Then you can find something else about me to work on, I’m sure.” Dean smiled before his lips covered Castiel’s. A soft groan greeted him even as Castiel opened to him, his tongue stroking across Dean’s as his arms tightened around him.

Dean moaned and pulled him even closer, loving the sensation of Castiel’s body pressed against him. “So good, never gonna let you go.”

“Never want you to,” Castiel admitted quietly, resting his forehead against Dean’s shoulder and taking a deep breath.

“Tell me this isn’t a dream, that I’m not going to wake up and find you’re not really here.”

“I’m here; I will stay here, with you, for as long as He wills.” As he spoke, Castiel ran a hand up Dean’s arm, to rest over the scar that marked his shoulder.

Dean inhaled sharply, his eyes closing as the sensation ran through him. “I see that hasn’t changed,” he said after a moment, opening his eyes again to meet Castiel’s.

“You misunderstand me. I am here, with you, until I die. Things _have_ changed, Dean. I have chosen; I am fallen; I am with you for as long as you will have me.”

“That’ll be forever. And you misunderstood me; I meant that I still feel you when you touch that scar. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the idea that you gave up Heaven for me... but I’m very glad you did.”

Castiel looked away, drawing in a deep breath before meeting Dean’s gaze again. “That choice was made the first time I touched you.”

“Then I guess it’s a pretty good thing that somewhere along the way I fell in love with you,” Dean said softly.

Castiel smiled at that though his eyebrows curved together as he looked over his shoulder. “Samuel...” he began.

Dean looked around, finally noticing that Sam and Bobby were gone. “I think he said something about giving us some privacy,” he remembered. “I guess he’s getting another room for him and Bobby.”

“I don’t want to come between you,” Castiel began.

“Cas, you’re not coming between us, but there are some times when three’s a crowd, especially when one of them’s your brother.”

“You have given so much for him,” Castiel whispered.

“He’s my brother,” Dean replied simply.

“Exactly.”

Dean started to laugh helplessly. “That doesn’t mean he’s my whole world, Cas. There’s plenty of room for you too.”

“Forgive me,” Castiel murmured. “I... have much to learn.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I like you just the way you are. And you’ll learn about modern life soon enough.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“And I’ll be right there with you,” Dean assured him.

“And I with you,” Castiel whispered before kissing him again.

Dean was still smiling as they kissed, his hands tugging Castiel’s shirt free of his pants to slide under and touch the warm, bare flesh beneath.

A breathless sigh met his moves as Castiel shifted to press against his touch, his own hands tightening against Dean’s arm and back.

“Maybe we should move this to the bed... since we can,” Dean suggested.

Castiel nodded, his hand trailing to Dean’s chest and resting there as they moved toward the bed. Once they stopped next to it, Dean’s hands moved to the buttons on Castiel’s shirt, and he slowly unfastened each one, pressing kisses to Cas’ chest as each new section of it was bared.

The former angel gasped, his back arching at the touch of Dean’s lips, his fingers clenching against Dean’s arms.

“You taste so good,” Dean breathed, his tongue dragging over a peaked nipple.

Castiel’s breath stuttered, and he staggered forward against Dean as sensation rushed through him.

“There are some advantages to being human,” Dean murmured.

“I’m beginning to see that,” Castiel whispered.

“Feeling’s even better than seeing.”

Castiel nodded at that and pressed a hand between them, sliding it under Dean’s shirts and up his chest, his breath catching in his throat at the feel of warm, firm flesh under his palm. Dean moaned softly and pressed into Castiel’s hand, increasing the pressure against his body. His own hands ran up and down Castiel’s back, fingertips exploring the ridges and hollows as he familiarized himself with Castiel’s body, making the fallen angel arch against him, his breath catching in his throat as the fingers of his free hand tangled in Dean’s hair to pull him into another kiss, this one desperate and hungry.

They shed their remaining clothes, and then Dean tumbled them onto the bed, pulling Castiel over him and groaning his pleasure at the weight pressing him into the mattress, Castiel gasping as their now bare flesh rubbed together and shuddering as desire raced through him. Dean arched up under him, tangling his legs with Castiel’s to hold them together as their cocks pressed together between them.

Castiel gasped again then moaned and shuddered, wetness seeping between them as he came, his face buried against Dean’s shoulder. Dean held him close and continued rocking against him, his cock gliding more easily now, and his fingers kneaded Castiel’s buttocks. It was only a little longer before he stiffened and gasped Cas’ name as a spasm of pleasure ripped through him, adding his semen to what was already between them.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered without raising his head.

“Cas,” Dean replied, stroking Castiel’s back and repeating the name with pleasure.

“I’m sorry.”

There was a moment of silence, Dean’s hand stilling in the middle of Castiel’s back, before he demanded, “What the hell for?”

“Because you thought I was gone. Because you were alone.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, that sucked, but you’re here now; that’s what matters.”

Castiel lifted his head at that and opened his eyes as he smiled down at Dean before cocking his head to the side, his expression becoming thoughtful. “This is... somewhat messy.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, sex usually is, especially between two guys, unless blowjobs are involved. I’ll get us a cloth in a minute; I just don’t want to move yet.”

“It was simply an observation.”

“I know, but you’re right. And we should clean up.” Dean thought about that. “Hmm, we could shower together if you’re up for it.”

“All right,” Castiel nodded, carefully levering himself up and off of Dean to stand beside the bed.

Dean lay for a moment longer, looking up at Castiel with a smile, before rising as well. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but I’m glad of whatever it was.”

“You simply were yourself.”

“I guess it’s a good thing you have strange taste for an angel.”

“For a man,” Castiel corrected gently as they walked toward the bathroom.

“Oh, you have great taste for a man,” Dean assured him, grinning.

Castiel looked over at him, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “I take it you mean that in more than one way?”

“Well, you like me... and you definitely taste good.”

Castiel nodded slowly, looking at Dean as if he was wondering about his sanity, making Dean laugh.

“Go with it, Cas. Sex is supposed to be fun—and it is.”

“Forgive me, this is... all very new to me.”

“I know. And I have to admit that’s hotter than hell.”

Castiel eyed him at that descriptor, then a corner of his mouth curved up in a smile. “I’m pleased you think so.”

“There may be some bumps ahead as you get used to being human, Cas, but this is never going to be one of them. This we have down.” Dean leaned in to turn on the shower, then stepped under the hot stream, motioning to Castiel to join him, the former angel doing so, his eyebrows shooting upward at the heat of the water, then lowering as he realized just how good it felt.

“Oh.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I take it you had some angelic way of keeping your vessel’s body clean for the months you were in it?”

“He wanted for nothing while I was in possession of his body.” Castiel raised a hand and let the water flow over it, a smile blossoming on his face at the look and feel of the droplets.

“But you missed out on a lot of the pleasures of a human body. Fortunately, we have a long time to make up for that.”

“The body belonged to another; it would not have been right.” Castiel paused and ducked his face under the water, smiling in delight before coughing when water got into his mouth.

“Breathing water only works if you’re a fish,” Dean said, sounding amused. “But showers are good otherwise.”

“That was... interesting, but no, not for breathing.”

“Yes, I’m pretty happy you’re not a fish.” Dean reached for the soap, lathering up his hands and then running them over Castiel’s chest.

“The Lord would not have sent me back in such a body even though I chose to step away from Him.”

“Well, that’s good to know. You look a lot better this way, and it’s a lot easier to talk to you.”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he stared at Dean for a long moment before breaking into a somewhat rusty laugh.

“I’ll have you making jokes within a week.”

“You intend to give me humor lessons?”

“I think it’ll come naturally. It’s part of being human... and you did just laugh,” Dean pointed out.

“Laughing is the precursor to telling jokes?” Castiel asked, his eyebrows rising, then lowering as he got a face-full of water.

“Finding something funny is the precursor to wanting to share that.” Dean grinned as he watched Castiel.

“Mmmhmm...” Castiel looked somewhat disbelieving at that.

“Don’t sweat it; there’re lots of other things to learn.” Dean slid his arms around Castiel’s waist and drew him closer, the former angel’s expression smoothing even as his body relaxed into the embrace.

“And I have no doubt that you’ll find much humor in teaching them to me,” he murmured.

“I’m more interested in us both enjoying it than laughing at you, Cas,” Dean said softly. “Just bear with me; I’m new at this too.”

“I did not mean—“ Castiel began before halting his speech and nodding even as he raised a hand to trace a finger over Dean’s mouth, a small smile curving his lips at the softness beneath his fingertip. “You are hardly new at being human.”

“No, but I am new at relationships.” Dean hardly hesitated over the word at all. “But we’ll work it out together.”

Castiel nodded, seemingly entranced by the way Dean’s lips moved under his fingers. After a moment, the lips in question curved into a smile, and then parted to close over Castiel’s fingers. Dean laved the captured digits, his green eyes half closed with pleasure, and his own fingers lightly kneaded the firm muscles of Castiel’s buttocks, the other man’s eyes opening wide in surprise, then closing as he sighed in pleasure.

Dean watched him with enjoyment, loving the way Castiel reacted to each new sensation. “God,” he whispered, “I think I could come just from watching you.”

“Come where?”

Dean gawked at him for a moment and then had to press his lips together to prevent himself bursting into laughter.

“It’s colloquial, Cas. It means climax. Sexually,” Dean added in case there was any further confusion.

“Ahh.” The other man’s cheeks flushed as he cleared his throat. “Again, I have much to learn.”

“That’s not a bad thing. We’ll have fun together as you learn them, and I’m sure you’ll end up teaching me a thing or two too.” Dean let himself smile at the man in his arms.

“Such as discretion?”

“What’s the point of that?” Only the sparkle in Dean’s eyes showed that he was teasing.

“Avoiding injury?” Castiel suggested blandly.

“But it’s not nearly as much fun.”

“Being injured is fun?”

“No, but sometimes it’s worth it for what you did to get that way.” Dean grinned wickedly, and Castiel’s eyebrows rose in response.

“Uriel was right,” he murmured, stroking a hand over Dean’s chest, “you are dangerous.”

“But that’s what makes me interesting.” Dean leaned into the hand, nearly purring with pleasure at Castiel’s touch.

“You wish to be interesting to Uriel?”

“Yuck! No, only to you,” Dean assured him, looking somewhat nauseated by the idea of Uriel being interested in him.

Castiel’s mouth curved into another small smile before he kissed Dean again. “Good.”

“Besides, there’s only room in this shower for the two of us.”

Castiel paused at that, and his expression grew thoughtful. “Yes, more in here would be quite crowded.”

“And to be honest, you’re the only angel—or ex-angel—that I want to see naked.”

“I don’t believe that will be a problem.”

“Since they liked me about as much I liked them, not so much, no.” Dean eyed Castiel for a moment before dropping to his knees to nuzzle Cas’ quiescent cock. The former angel’s eyes widened, and his balance wavered, forcing him to rest his hands on Dean’s shoulders.

“What—“ he gasped, feeling the curl of arousal spear into him again.

“We humans like to call this a blow job.”

“You consider it work?” The question was asked as Castiel frowned.

“What? Oh.” Dean grinned and gave Cas a quick lick. “No, that’s just what it’s called. I consider it pure pleasure, not work at all.”

“I... see what you mean.”

“I thought you might.” While Cas was still soft enough that he could, Dean took his entire cock into his mouth and suckled gently, the other man’s hand fisting against his shoulder as he drew in a deep breath that turned into a groan, his cock twitching inside Dean’s mouth.

“Mmmm,” Dean hummed his enjoyment, his hands moving to cup Castiel’s ass and urge him to move.

Castiel arched forward, groaning again at the hot, wet suction around him, then drew back, the drag of Dean’s mouth over his cock a tantalizing torment. His breaths coming faster, he repeated the move again, and again, feeling himself grow harder with every cycle.

Dean was clearly enjoying it as much as Castiel was, his hands sliding over water-slick flesh to tease at heavy balls before working back again. One fingertip lightly traced the tight ring of muscle, gliding over the sensitive flesh as he continued to work the lengthening cock in his mouth.

“Dean...” The word was panted out through gasps for breath as the cooling water from the showerhead beat down around them.

Green eyes looked up through thick lashes, blinking through the water, and Dean’s pleasure was obvious in the gaze. Castiel stared down at him, focused utterly on him, at least until his climax tore through him, almost sending to him to his knees.

Dean licked him clean and then surged to his feet to take Castiel’s mouth in a hungry kiss while rubbing against him frantically. Recovering quickly from  orgasm and surprise at Dean’s movement, Castiel pulled him closer, urging him on, wanting to bring Dean the same pleasure that he had been given. Already close from sucking Castiel off, it didn’t take long before Dean was coming, groaning Castiel’s name and covering their bellies with his seed.

Supporting him until he recovered, Castiel nuzzled the side of Dean’s head, finally chuckling quietly.

“Hmm?” Dean murmured interrogatively, moving just enough to reach around Castiel and turn off the rapidly cooling water.

“I thought we were to take a shower to clean off, not get messy again.”

“We cleaned off, got messy, and cleaned up again. It was a very efficient use of our time.”

“Ahh...” Castiel nodded as they climbed out of the shower, drying off with the large soft towels on the racks nearby.

“And it was fun,” Dean finally added, pulling Castiel to him for another kiss.

“Yes,” Castiel smiled at the recent memory, “it was fun and much more.”

“I think the appropriate comment at this point is ‘told you so!’” Dean laughed.

Castiel started to smile at that comment before surprising himself with a yawn.

“And that means it’s time to try something else new: sleeping together.” Dean nudged Cas toward the bed.

“I have found that being tired and hungry are very strange sensations,” Castiel nodded as he allowed himself to be herded and settled in the bed with Dean curled up around him.

“It’s part of being human... and makes it feel even better when you satisfy the needs.” Dean kissed the back of Cas’ neck, unable to stop smiling.

“Yes, Robert was most helpful as I learned about them.”

“I guess it was kind of like having a tutor,” Dean mused, and Castiel nodded, freezing when the back of his head connected with Dean’s nose.

“Ow! Hey, try not to break my nose,” Dean requested laughingly. “I think I might need it again.”

“Forgive me,” Castiel murmured, holding his body still but then starting to fidget after a few seconds.

“Cas, you don’t need to try to impersonate a statue,” Dean said after a little while. “Relax. Move around till you’re comfortable.”

“I don’t want to hit you aga—“ Castiel yelped as Dean’s fingers danced over his ribs, and he squirmed to get away from the sensation. “I’m moving now! Does this make you happy?”

“I’m happy you’re not stiff as a board anymore,” Dean assured him, chuckling, and Castiel looked back over his shoulder at him, opening his mouth to say something before shaking his head and settling closer against Dean, sighing in pleasure as he relaxed.

Dean made a soft sound of contentment as well as he curled around Castiel, inhaling the scent of him and feeling the warmth of his body as they lay together. “I could stay here forever,” he murmured almost soundlessly.

“And you believe I have an issue with this?” Castiel sighed, already half asleep.

Dean only nestled a little closer, his eyes closed and his breathing slowing as he drifted into sleep with a smile curving his lips, his very own fallen guardian angel safely in his arms.

 


End file.
